Changed
by Mishirure
Summary: After the Avengers, Odin banishes Loki Laufeyson to Earth, stripping him of his powers and forcing him to live with the humans he once sought to rule. It is there his views of everything are changed, thanks to the surprising power of one woman. Rated for future events. Chapters 1 and 2 re-posted due to errors I found.
1. Prologue: Return to Asgard

_**Changed**_

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_Prologue: Return to Asgard_

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The return trip to Asgard was tense and heavy, a strong sense of dread hanging over the two brothers as they touched down on the rainbow bridge that once lead to the bifrost from the castle. Thor and Loki took a moment to register that they were finally home, admiring the beautiful golden sunset that graced the sky, but the moment was solemn. Both knew that this could be the last sunset Loki would ever see. It was Thor's duty to bring him in to Odin the Allfather, and it was Odin alone who could decide his fate. As much as Thor knew that Loki wished he could take all of his actions back, his crimes were punishable by death. The most that Thor could do to help his brother was plead that his father spare his life, but there would still be punishment, imprisonment, or even exile.

As they stood in silence, Loki still chained and gagged, Thor sighed, looking down at his feet in sorrow with the casket to the Tesseract hanging loosely in his hand; Loki had released his hold on it the moment they arrived. He didn't want to move, his emotions would not allow him to take another step, for as soon as he did, his brother would be one step closer to death. He wanted to prolong it for a long as possible.

"Please believe that I don't wish to go through with this, Brother," Thor said sadly, glancing over at Loki. The silver tongue was looking down at his feet, avoiding his brother's gaze. Thor looked at him sadly, wanting so much to just embrace him, to be able to savor one last moment of them as brothers and nothing more. Instead, he simply leaned forward and removed the gag from Loki's mouth, allowing him to speak freely, yet he remained quiet.

"I know you wanted to do the right thing," Thor continued. Loki swallowed heavily, looking up at the sky, but still avoiding the lighting god's gaze. Thor reached out with his free hand, the one that wasn't holding the glowing blue casket, and grasped his brother's shoulder tightly."I _know_ you wanted to come home with me during our conversation on Midgard. You wanted things to be right again, to go back to the way they were."

"Things can never go back to the way they were, Thor," Loki replied softly, his voice like velvet, but his vivid green eyes betrayed his emotions. "Not ever again…"

"We can try-" Thor started.

"No," Loki interrupted, his voice slightly raised. He finally looked over to his brother, sadness and regret etched plainly on his face. "We can't try. I am not the same anymore, Brother, I am the one who damned myself to… to this. All of Asgard will know of my origins now, and due to my recent decisions, I doubt they will welcome me back with open arms. Even if the Allfather did. I would be shown respect, but it would be a lie, false; that's not something I can live with."

Thor held his brother's gaze, the sadness mirrored in his own eyes. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew Loki was right… things had changed so much, and they could never go back to the way things were, no matter how much he wished it. When had things gone so wrong? When had it all changed? He and Loki had always been so close, why hadn't he come to speak with him if he was feeling inadequate next to him? Brothers were meant to stick together, to not keep secrets, to support one another… If anything, Thor felt guilty that he hadn't done anything to help his brother.

"What happened, Brother?" Thor asked quietly. "How did we end up like this? I remember how we were, but I forgot what it felt like somewhere along the way. What caused this rift?"

"You're just stalling now, Thor," Loki said, shifting his arms slightly so that the chains of his irons clinked together. "We both know we can't stop what's coming; I think it best to get things over and done with."

"I'll ask him not to execute you," Thor promised, hoping Odin would understand.

"What good will that do?" The god of mischief asked, sounding annoyed.

"We will find a way, Brother," Thor vowed, hitting his fist against his heart. "I swear it to you."

Loki simply looked at Thor with sadness, his green eyes eventually dropping to his feet again. With a small sigh, he let out a single laugh, but there was no humor in it. It was the defeated laugh of a defeated man who knew his fate. It was best to accept it with dignity now.

"Please, Thor," Loki pleaded softly. "Let us get this over with."

Thor swallowed hard on the lump in his throat before steeling himself against the pain of what was about to come. Heavy with regret, he took his first step forward, leading Loki along with him, his heart growing heavier every moment. He would have liked to spend his last moments with Loki alone, talking things out, finding just what had happened between them that caused this valley of a rift. However, that was not the case; as soon as they reached the steps to the vast golden palace, they were greeted by the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. Thor had never been unhappier to see them.

"To what do I owe your company?" Thor asked politely, but there was a bite of anger behind his words.

"The Allfather has requested that we accompany you to the throne room," Sif explained, stepping forward. Her eyes barely glanced at Loki, but he saw the shame and anger in her eyes, could almost feel the accusations of betrayal radiating off of her. He couldn't help but smirk wryly to himself. He knew what she was thinking. How far the false prince of Asgard had fallen.

"With all do respect, Sif, I think I can handle this on my own," Thor said, using an arm to gently move her aside, and he passed her, pulling Loki gently along.

Sif narrowed her eyes slightly, looking over at Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg. They shrugged as Thor passed him, Loki still in tow, and she noticed with annoyance how _gentle_ Thor was being to his 'brother'. Certainly much gentler than _she'd _have been if she'd brought him back. Knowing Thor, he would probably argue with the Allfather as much as possible in order to keep Loki alive. As far as Sif was concerned, he didn't deserve even the kindness of death, for it would be swift and painless. Out of everyone, she was the most bitter about Loki's actions; no one else cared for Thor as much as she did – Loki had proved that much – and she had been the one to stand by and watch while he suffered over his lost brother. And, upon finding him again, had almost die**d** by his hand. Any and all affection Sif had once felt towards Odin's adoptive son was now replaced by loathing and contempt.

"Then we shall accompany you for moral support," Sif said, marching up the steps after Thor. The Warriors Three fell into step behind her.

"As much as I appreciate the sentiment, Sif," Thor said curtly, stopping to turn to her. "Moral support only works if both parties feel the same. I respect you and care for you, but you cannot possibly know how this feels right now."

"I…" Sif started, taken aback by Thor's intensity. She bowed her head apologetically. "Forgive me."

Thor nodded, glad that she understood her place and pulled Loki with him again as he approached the throne room. Without turning around, he called back to her, "You're forgiven."

All too soon, they arrived in the throne room. Odin sat in the ornate golden chair, looking grim, Frigga close by. As soon as she saw her sons come in, crossing the golden floor, her hands went to her mouth at the sight of Loki. His dark hair was longer now, dark circles around his eyes, and he had cuts along the bridge of his nose, his cheeks and his forehead. But all of that paled in comparison to seeing him in irons, being escorted in by Thor. Her heart went out to her older son, who was being exceedingly gentle with Loki. Before Odin could stop her, Frigga stepped down from the platform where the throne sat and approached her sons. She glanced at Thor, who simply met her eyes sadly before looking away, and finally she looked at Loki. His face was carefully composed into an expressionless mask, his jaw clenched tightly. He seemed to observe her with vague indifference, but Frigga knew better; behind his green eyes was a deep regret, a profound sadness she had never seen in Loki before. Her eyes had started to tear up, but she gave him a watery smile, reaching her hands up to touch his face. He didn't pull away, but he didn't lean into her touch the way he had when he was a child either. He simply held her gaze, cool and collected as she brushed her fingers across his alabaster skin.

"Loki," Frigga breathed with relief. "My son…"

"Hello, Mother," Loki replied indifferently, but his throat felt thick as he swallowed.

Frigga's tears were falling freely now, a mixture of relief and joy at seeing her son again, and also sadness for what she knew was going to happen. She stroked her son's face, brushing his dark, feathery hair back, noting just how long it had gotten. She searched his beautiful face again before emotion overcame her and she pulled him into a hug. Loki was unable to return the gesture, but he looked momentarily surprised that this woman was still showing him affection, despite everything he had done.

"We missed you so much," she whispered to him. Loki didn't answer; he simply lowered his head slightly, looking at the floor as Frigga held him.

Thor watched from the sidelines, the scene warming his heart and saddening him all at the same time. Out of all of them, Frigga was the one to mourn Loki the most. He wished his mother could have more time with her second son, but Thor noticed Odin rising from his throne out of the corner of his eye, and his heart sank. It was time. Reluctantly, the thunder god moved closer to his mother and touched her shoulder, gently detangling her arms from around Loki's neck. Instantly, Frigga began to weep, and she held onto him even tighter for a moment before pressing a loving kiss to his scratched cheek, finally allowing herself to be pulled away. Odin tapped his staff on the ground three times to signal attention, the sound echoing off the walls. Loki exhaled deeply before lifting his head to observe his father.

Finally, after a long time of simply staring at one another, Odin finally said, "Loki… Odinson."

Loki flinched at that name. Was this truly Odin's belief, or had Thor begged him to use that name?

"You stand here before me under trial for the crimes you have committed against Asgard and Midgard." The Allfather announced formally. "Crimes… that are punishable by death."

"Father-" Thor started, stepping forward, but Odin simply held up a hand to silence his eldest son. Thor exhaled sharply through his nose, frustrated that his father wouldn't allow him to speak. He didn't want Loki to die…

"However," Odin continued, cutting Thor off again just as he opened his mouth to speak. "I cannot bear to condemn my youngest son to death."

Loki narrowed his eyes slightly. "To what do I owe this show of kindness?"

"I feel as if it's my fault that you have turned down this path, Loki," Odin said, stepping down off the platform so that he could be level with the boy. "You've only acted out of anger and betrayal, all because of your true parentage, and your spirit fell deeply into darkness. You cannot take the blame for this alone.

"However," The Allfather continued. "The things you've done have been severe… and as King, I cannot let it go without punishment. As such, I hereby declare you banished from Asgard, to live on Midgard, where you will live with the people you once sought to rule."

Loki slowly licked his lips as he observed his father, nervousness bubbling in him. Was he truly being sent back to Midgard? Suddenly, Frigga had her arms around him again, pressing her tear-stained cheek to his. She held his numb body tightly, whispering, "We will see you again, my son… please be well."

And finally Thor, clapping him on the shoulder. "Be well, Brother."

Before Loki could truly register what was happening, Odin was saying, "I now take from you your power."

The wind was suddenly knocked out of Loki's lungs as he felt his strength drain from his body, his power gone. He tried to regain his breath, but for some reason it wouldn't come.

"In the name of my father," Odin continued, his voice calm and solemn, now suddenly with the Tesseract in hand. Loki looked at it with a mix of hatred and fear before glancing up at his father pleadingly, silently begging him to stop. "And his father before, I, Odin Allfather, cast you out."

A second after Odin turned the handle on the crate to the Tesseract, Loki felt his body being wrenched away from Asgard. He plummeted through space, and all of a sudden, he landed hard on the ground, vaguely aware of someone moaning in pain beneath him.


	2. Chapter One: From the Sky

**Author's Note: **I'm so pleased with the positive responses I've had on the prologue. Thank you so much! Lots of favorites and watches soon after posting, which always gives me the warmest of fuzzies. You guys are awesome!

_EDIT:_ Reread through this to get myself in a groove again, and realized a paragraph was missing. OOPS. All fixed now.

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_**Changed**_

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_Chapter One: From the Sky_

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The cool evening air was welcome after a hot day in New York, the sweltering heat causing tensions to run high and rather strong words to be exchanged. There was still some signs of the destruction that had happened a few months ago with the whole alien attack thing, but aside from some fine-tuning work, the major buildings were repaired and everything was more or less in working order again. As per usual, there was a huge amount of traffic in the streets, the car engines giving off a low hum with the not-so-occasional honk thrown in here and there from an angry driver. The sidewalks were busy and bustling with people of all kids; buskers playing music, street vendors trying to sell their shitty knock-off crap or their disgusting hot dogs, tourists who were taking in the sights, and natives who just kept their heads low as they wove their way in and out of people. Among the last category was a woman named Michelle Taylor.

For a woman of 25 years, she was of average height, perhaps a little shorter, and of average weight; not skinny, but slender and fit. She was dressed casually in jeans and combat boots with a lose-fitting blue shirt that hung low on her shoulders, her long, dark bouncy curls tied back in a ponytail. Her blue eyes were hidden behind sunglasses that she had just rummaged through her purse for before answering her cell phone, walking with a sense of purpose.

"Jeremy that deal was supposed to be signed last week." Michelle was saying into her phone, scratching at the back of her head in frustration. "No, you weren't supposed to cancel it, Eileen loves him, she wants him on board. Daniel's contract is up in three weeks, there should have been a replacement actor lined up weeks ago. Look, just call them back and tell them there was a mix up; send that contract out today. _Today_, Jeremy. Okay. All right. Bye."

Exhaling deeply, she poked her fingers under the lenses of her glasses to rub at her eyes, following the crowd of people that crossed the street. It had been a long day at work and now she was doing everyone else's job for them. Michelle was a Stage Manager for Broadway, a gig she happened to fall into due to her good organizational skills, and had since managed to keep this one job with the same production for a few months now. She was incredibly happy that she jumped in when the production was already established on Broadway and not just being work shopped; she didn't think she could handle the erratic hours. Over the course of her time at the theatre, however, she found herself doing more than just stage managing, and was now helping the Production Assistant with all of his paperwork; Jeremy was a good kid, but he was naïve and a little simple in the common sense department. How he ever managed to score that job was beyond her… She just had to wait a month for the replacement actor to come in, and then she wouldn't have Jeremy running to her for help every ten minutes.

She stifled a yawn as she turned down the street that took her to her usual shortcut, an alleyway that put her in close proximity to her apartment. As she rounded the corner, making sure to keep her bag close to her, she noticed a group of men dressed in baggy clothing standing around, chatting, smoking, whatever it is they did. Michelle was used to seeing shady looking characters; this was New York, after all, and down-on-their-luck people seemed to be more in common now since that alien attack. Fortunately, she had been out of town for that one, visiting her parents in the Canadian Maritimes, but she'd seen enough footage of Captain America being thrown out of windows to know that it hadn't been pretty.

Thunder cracked, lighting forking across the sky.

She ignored the group of men as she passed them, confidently strolling down the long alleyway like she had many times before. It wasn't until she was fairly far from the main street that she heard a few extra sets of footsteps, and she glanced back out of the corner of her eye, only to have someone grab her arm and shove her up against the wall. She let out a small squeak of alarm before she opened her mouth to yell, only to have a gun shoved in her face. Michelle winced before looking into the face the thug that had her pinned, his two flunkies on either side to make sure she didn't take off. Sure enough, it was the guys she'd passed only minutes ago.

The thunder rumbled again, the lighting flashing a little brighter this time.

"What's in the bag, sweetheart?" the thug asked, brushing a finger down her cheek. She wrenched her head away, giving him a dirty look.

"Nothing for you," she shot back.

The thug snickered. "Huh. Is that so? Why don't we have a look?"

He started to reach for her purse just as something heavy suddenly dropped from the sky and landed on one of the flunkies. Michelle screamed in alarm, startled by the sickening crunching sound and realizing that the thing that dropped from the sky was a _man_. The thug must have had a few broken bones after that… but what the hell was a _man_ doing, falling from the sky? Then thug pinning her to the wall pulled the gun out of her face and turned around to observe what was going on, his friend that was standing doing the same. While they were distracted, Michelle slowly and quietly reached into her bag for something.

"What the fuck?" The flunky asked. He glanced over at the ringleader. "What the hell happened?"

The thug with the gun looked up at the sky, where the dark thunderclouds were beginning to disperse. "I dunno… maybe he's a jumper?"

"You okay, Tony?" The flunky said, bending down to push the body of the man off of his friend. Tony groaned.

"I think I broke something…"

"Hang on, I'll get him off of you," the flunky answered. When he put his hands on the fallen man, however, his eyes snapped open, and he suddenly grabbed the flunky by the throat before slowly getting to his feet.

"Do…" the man huffed. "_Not…_ touch me…"

"Okay, okay, dude," the flunky gasped, beginning to look nervous. "Let me go, I'll back down."

Michelle was still pressed against the wall, trying to decide what to do. Did she make a break for it, or should she help the man who had fallen from the sky? For having fallen pretty far, he looked fine, but she couldn't be too sure… that is, until he suddenly shoved the thug he was holding by throat into the opposite wall of the alley.

"Hey!" The head thug said, raising his gun at the man, but before he had an opportunity to do anything, Michelle had come up behind him and kicked him hard in the crotch. He shouted in pain before he crumpled, hands clutching himself as his eyes watered. Through his tears, he blindly raised his gun and looked like he was about to shoot in her general direction, but she held up the small can of mace and sprayed him right in the eyes, causing him to drop the gun and cover his face with a yell. Tony, who'd just gotten up off the ground and was cradling a broken arm, looked around at the predicament his friends were in.

"Fuck this shit," he said before taking off. While the mysterious man was distracted by Michelle's actions, his captive managed to break free, pushing the ring leader out of the way as he stumbled from the alley. Eventually, all the thugs were gone, and it was just her and the fallen man alone. Suddenly realizing this, Michelle whipped around again, holding the can of mace spray ready, but she faltered slightly when she looked at him.

He was dressed so strangely; all leather with a kind of trench coat lined with green, chipped bits of metal hanging off of it here and there. His face was pale and thin with the most intense green eyes she'd ever seen, and his hair was black as night, most of it slicked back off his face, but there were a few pieces out of place. He was leaning against the alley wall, panting heavily, looking weak. She just noticed the small cuts and bruises on his skin, along with the dark circles around his eyes. She was about to step forward to help him when he looked around at her with an almost crazed look, causing her to withdraw.

"Where is this place?" he asked her softly, but his voice was so low and intense, it almost felt like an order.

"Manhattan," Michelle replied after a moment, trying to decide what to do. Should she run away? He was clearly a bit unstable…

"Manhattan," he repeated in a low voice, resting his forehead against the brick wall. Then he started to laugh, a manic sound. Pushing himself off the wall, he stumbled back a few steps before looking up at the sky. "You're really sending me here again, Father? I thought you were joking!"

"Okay, you know what?" Michelle started, slowly backing out of the alley. "I'm just going to-"

A loud thud caused her to look at the man again, only to realize that he'd crumpled on the ground. He groaned softly, trying to push himself up, but he was clearly weak and out of it, possibly even seriously injured. She had half a mind to just leave him there, to take the long way home, but when she moved to do so, her body froze. She couldn't do it. Michelle wasn't a malicious person; she was programmed to help people when they were clearly in trouble. Even if their sanity was up for debate.

"Shit," she cursed turning back around to help the fallen man. She kept the can of pepper spray in her hand, just in case, but she hitched her back higher on her shoulder before bending down and taking hold of the man's arm. "Come on, buddy, get up."

He looked up at her with a furious stare than caused her to flinch, but she wasn't about to back down. Michelle tugged at his arm again with a little more force this time.

"On your feet, man," she said. "I'm trying to help you."

"I do not need your help," he spat. She raised a brow and gestured to the alleyway.

"You're… kind of in an alley," she told him. "And you've clearly hit your head a little too hard. You can either stay here, or let me help you."

He exhaled hard through his teeth before he held his arm out to her again, allowing her to help him. She hoisted him to his feet, grunting with the effort, before slinging his arm around her shoulders. As he slumped against her, head lolling onto his chest, she drew her arm around his waist, supporting him a little more, and she poked him gently in the ribs to move.

"Come on, buddy, work with me," She grunted, taking a step forward. Slowly and lethargically, he complied, and they began to the trek to her apartment.

He was clearly trying to hang on to consciousness. Every now and then, Michelle would have to poke him hard in the ribs or hoist him up a little more and his head would snap up in alarm as if being startled out of sleep. Thankfully, her building came into view, like a beautiful, blissful beacon of sanctuary, and she sighed in relief that they were almost there. Now she just had to worry about getting him _inside_.

"Thank Christ there's an elevator…" she murmured to herself as she used her swipe key to unlock the door, trying to balance him at the same time. "Just a little further, okay? We're almost there."

The building was nice and clean, not too overly swanky that people would mistake it as a place for the rich and famous, but this was not the building where the poor, starving vagabonds lived, either. A modest chandelier hung on the high ceiling, the cream-colored tiled lobby big and spacious with an oak reception desk to the right when you first walked in the doors. To the left were the steel elevators, and Michelle instantly made her way over to them, pressing the up arrow to call the elevator while the man on her shoulder fought to stay standing.

"Just a few more minutes," she coaxed, adjusting his arm around her shoulders so that she could keep a better grip on him. The doors _finally _opened and she quickly ushered the man inside, noticing at the last second that there was an elderly woman already standing there, eyeing him suspiciously. Michelle suddenly realized that people may start to ask questions about him, especially his choice of clothing; leather and broken pieces of metal that she assumed had been armor once. Who would be wearing stuff like that on hot days like today? Oh, well; the sooner she got him in her apartment, the sooner she wouldn't have to be seen with him. With a sheepish smile, Michelle leaned over and pressed the button labeled '5' and then stood awkwardly with this strange man she was supporting, dressed in leather. As she waited for the elevator to go up, she glanced over at the woman, and saw out of the corner of her eye that she was staring at them. Michelle gave her an embarrassed smile again.

"My… cousin," she explained, gesturing to the man. She hoped the lie she was spinning was believable; Michelle was a terrible liar. "He was… out drinking last night. Had a bit too much, crashed at a friend's place, but he… he really can't deal with hangovers very well."

"Oh," the woman said, still looking a little wary. "I was just wondering about his strange clothing."

Michelle nodded, cursing mentally. Of course that's what she's be wondering about.

"He's, uh…" she said, lowering her voice slightly as she leaned as close to the woman as possible without disturbing the man. "He's… kind of the black sheep of the family. He's kind of like… Goth, or something, you know? He's one of those costume nerds, makes his own outfits for the New York Comic Con; we just let him do his thing."

"Oh, I see," the woman said, nodding with a smile, clearly pleased that she now understood the strange outfit. Thankfully, the elevator finally opened on Michelle's floor, and she nudged the man in the ribs, saying in a rather theatrical voice, "Come on, cuz, let's get you into bed."

She gave the woman a smile and a nod as she guided the guy out into the hallway. He managed to make it out of the elevator, but the moment his feet touched the carpet, he positively _collapsed_, nearly taking Michelle with him. She let out a small squeal as she tried to stay upright, adjusting his weight as much as she could, but damn, he was _heavy_.

"Half of this weight is probably that stupid ass costume of yours," she grumbled, proceeding to drag him down the hallway to her apartment. With great difficulty, she managed to rescue her keys from her purse while still keeping him upright, and the sound that was heard when the door clicked open was the most satisfying and glorious sound she had heard all day. Kicking the door open, she dragged him over the threshold, and tried to decide where she was going to put him. She didn't take long with her decision, however, as he seemed to get heavier by the second. Her bedroom was closest, so she made a beeline for that.

She huffed as she dragged him over onto the bed, allowing him to fall unceremoniously onto the mattress, face first. She panted slightly, trying to catch her breath as she just looked at him, laying there, and decided that she _may_ as well put some effort into putting him to bed. With a lot of tugging and pulling and huffing and puffing, she finally managed to get him on the bed properly, lying on his back. It was during her breather that she finally took a moment to look at him.

He was surprisingly beautiful; aside from the cuts and bruises she noticed earlier, his alabaster skin was flawless, his features sharp and angular. Despite being beautiful, however, he also looked rather ill; pale lips, dark circles around his eyes, and small beads of sweat sitting on his brow. There were tiny wrinkles in the corners of his eyes that she assumed were laugh lines, but judging by the first impression she had of him, she doubted he was a very happy person.

It was as if she suddenly realized what she'd done in a matter of seconds.

"What the hell am I doing?"

She turned around and left the room, closing the door behind her so quickly, it was as if she thought he might jump up and follow her. She glanced around hastily for a moment before taking a few chairs and a small end table and stacking them in front of the door to barricade him in. She knew it was stupid, but it made her feel a little better. As soon as she was certain the chairs weren't about to fall off the end table, Michelle began to pace, putting her face in her hands and smoothed them back through her disheveled ponytail, trying to decide what to do. She brought her hands to her mouth again, tapping her fingers on her lips thoughtfully before she went into the kitchen and grabbed the phone, dialing the number of her best friend.

"Hello?" A low voice said on the other line.

"Dylan," Michelle breathed, thankful to hear his voice.

"Hi, love, how are you?" Dylan said pleasantly.

"Um… well…" she answered uncertainly, glancing at her bedroom door. "I need your help?"

"What do you need?"

"I have a strange man in my apartment."

There was a long pause. And then:

"You big slut, good for you!" Dylan said with a cheer. "Oh my god, finally! Wait… why do you need help? Woman, I will never, ever be drunk enou-"**  
**

"_No_, not like that," Michelle hissed. "Just… come over and I'll explain everything to you."

"Okay," he said. "Let me just put some pants on, and I'll be right over."

About twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Dylan lived in the same building as she did, a few floors up, and he and Michelle spent a lot of time together. He was good for her because they had a lot in common (he worked in theatre, too) and always had things to say to each other. However, she was convinced that the main reason they got along so well was because he was as gay as a pride parade. As soon as she heard his arrival she bounded over to the door, throwing it wide open as if that would make him come in faster.

"So where's this man?" He asked, giving her a hug as he came into the house. Dylan was an attractive man, about six feet tall with light brown hair and brown eyes, and he always dressed very well; today he wore a pair of dark wash denim jeans, black dress shoes, a white button-down dress shirt, complete with tie and vest, along with his signature flat cap.

"He, uh… he's in my room," Michelle answered, rubbing her temples. Man, how had today become such a clusterfuck? All she'd wanted to do after work was come home and veg on the couch.

Dylan made his way over to her bedroom door, eying the make shift barricade skeptically before he turned and looked at her. "You built a barricade?"

"I don't know who he is, Dylan, what if he tries to kill me?" She yelled.

"Then why'd you bring him into your apartment?"

"I couldn't just leave him on the pavement…" she mumbled lamely.

"You're such a Canadian," he said, beginning to take the chairs down from the side table.

"What are you doing?" Michelle fretted.

"I'm getting a look at him," Dylan replied without turning to her. Moving the side table out of the way, he quietly opened the door to glance at the man lying on her bed. He was still passed out, but the steady rise and fall of his chest was a good indication that he was alive. "Wow. He's attractive."

"For someone who fell twenty feet from the sky," Michelle answered. Dylan looked around at her in confusion and she beckoned for him to close the door. "I was walking home from work after dealing with Jeremy, and I got mugged in that alleyway I always use as a short cut."

"Oh my god," Dylan said in alarm. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she waved his concern away. "Thanks to _him_, anyway; before they could do anything, he dropped right out of the sky and landed on one of them. You should have seen him, Dylan; as soon as one of the other guys touched him, he jumped right up, grabbed him by the throat and just went a bit… crazy."

"Crazy how?"

"He scared the guys off after I got in a few hits, and then started yelling up at the sky to his father."

Dylan raised his brow. "Some kind of religious freak?"

"I don't know," Michelle said shrugging. "Probably; did you see his clothes? At least twenty pounds of leather and metal; he's probably a cultist."

"A hot cultist."

She swatted him on the arm in annoyance. "So what do I do?"

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Well… when the thugs touched him, he flipped out, right? How did you get him here?"

"I basically carried him."

"But he didn't freak out when you touched him?"

Michelle paused for a moment. "Well… no. But he was barely conscious by that point."

"I'd keep him," Dylan said. "Rather, I'd let him stay here. He obviously needs someone's help. If he starts getting weird, I'm only a few floors above you, and you have your mace."

"You really think it's a good idea?" Michelle asked, worrying her lip between her teeth.

"I think any hot man in my bedroom is a good idea, Michelle," he answered with a coy smile. "And to be honest, you desperately need to get laid."

"Right," She said with a hollow laugh. "Lay the mysterious crazy guy…"

* * *

Dylan hung out for a few hours, so he and Michelle made dinner together. They even made some for the crazy guy, who Dylan had christened Hottie McHothot, but when Michelle went to go check on him to see if he wanted any food, she still found him completely passed out, even when she poked him warily in the shoulder a few times.

"He sleeps like a rock," she murmured, taking the opportunity to pull some pajamas from her drawers, because she sure as hell wasn't sleeping in her bedroom tonight.

"An attractive rock," Dylan quipped.

"Would you shut up?" Michelle said, slapping him in the arm with her pajamas as she ushered him from the room with a giggle.

Eventually, Dylan went home, and it was just Michelle and Hottie McHothot. She had changed into her pajamas in the bathroom, just in case he came out and saw her naked, but as soon as she'd done it, she felt silly. Now dressed in a pair of white and pale blue striped flannel pajama pants with a large baggy white t-shirt, her hair still tied back in a ponytail, she stood staring at her bedroom door, chewing on her thumb and trying to decide what to do. On one hand, she could sleep; on the other hand, she could stay awake and make sure he didn't try to kill her. Eventually, she opted for the latter.

She found her purse in the kitchen, going through it to find her can of mace before she crept back to the living room. Her bedroom was right across the hallway, in perfect view from her couch, so she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders ad curled into a ball on the cushions, peering over the arm at her bedroom door, her can of mace at the ready. She would be ready if that door opened. Her eyes slowly started to droop, however, and she slowly let the can of mace fall from her hand as she drifted off to sleep.

Michelle startled awake the next morning, glancing around in a panic. She realized that nothing had changed since the night before; her bedroom door was still closed, there was no one in the living room with her, and she couldn't hear any sounds coming from the bathroom. She flung her blanket away and stumbled off the couch, searching around for her can of mace before she crept to her bedroom door, quietly turning the handle and peering inside. Hottie McHothot still lay sleeping on the bed. She decided then that if he didn't wake up by this evening, she'd take him to the hospital for fear of him being in a coma. For now, her stomach demanded breakfast, so she tromped off to the kitchen.

* * *

Loki woke slowly, his eyes drifting in and out of focus as he became aware of his surroundings. The last thing he remembered was dealing with some irritating humans in an alleyway, followed by a woman demanding that he get to his feet. His eyes snapped open at that and he bolted upright, though he regretted the action immediately. His head was pounding, a strange wave of sickness coming over him. Ah, yes; he'd forgotten about his new mortal form. He simply sat on the bed for a moment, taking slow, deep breaths as he willed the sick, dizzy feeling away. The headache, he realized, would not be going anywhere anytime soon. Once he didn't feel quite so dizzy, he looked around at his surroundings carefully.

It was a bedroom, obviously a woman's; the walls were a pale blue color with white lace curtains and Venetian blinds on the single window. The queen-sized bed had a large quilt on top, different shades of pale blue, green and white all stitched together in a series of floral patterns, complete with matching pillowcases. The head and footboards were white metal bars, the tops curving ornately with leaves and vines. There was only one bedside table closest to him, where a simple lamp sat, along with an electrical music device, a book that read "The Fellowship of the Ring" on the cover, and a few picture frames. The subjects of the frames were clearly a family; in one, a couple in their fifties had their arms around each other. The woman was shorter with a curvy, matronly figure and short, curly brown hair. The man was large and tall, his hair a dark gray and his eyes disappeared when he smiled. In the other frame, three young people; one Loki recognized as the woman from the alleyway, her arms around a small girl that looked like her, but her dark hair was bone straight. With his arms around both of the girls was a tall, athletic-looking man whose eyes also disappeared when he smiled, his dark brown hair spiked and artfully disheveled. There was also a dresser full of clothes, as well as a closet, and the whole room smelled faintly of lavender.

He was pulled out of his observations by some noises coming from outside of the room, along with the faint smell of cooked food, and he realized then how hungry he was. Slowly pushing himself to his feet, he walked over to the door and pulled it open slowly, cautiously, thought he wasn't sure why. As soon as the door opened, the smell of food hit him full force, and he followed it without question. As he cautiously made his way down the hallway, he could hear the faint sound of humming and dishes being moved about. Soon enough, the source of the noise came into view; a woman with long , dark curly hair, pulled back off her face, dressed in simple clothes that did nothing to flatter her shape. Her back was turned to him as she busied herself with piling food on plates, still humming to herself, and when she turned back to get something she noticed him and gave a small yelp of surprise.

"Jeez…" she breathed with a hand over her heart. "You startled me. I was just about to try and come wake you up. You must be hungry."

She gestured to a seat at a small table nearby and Loki eyed her warily as he slowly sat down. She brought a plate of sausage, bacon and scrambled eggs to him, along with eating utensils wrapped up in a glanced down at it before looking back up at her, and he saw that she was chewing on her bottom lip before she smiled at him.

"I… hope you like it," she said awkwardly as she turned away to get her own food.

The smell was so overpowering that Loki couldn't stop himself from picking up his fork and beginning to indulge in his offered meal. His first impression of this woman was that she was a good cook. She had opted to say near the counter to eat, eyeing him apprehensively as she slowly pushed a small piece of sausage into her mouth. After chewing thoughtfully and swallowing it down, she watched him for a moment before speaking.

"If you wanted to change out of those heavy clothes of yours," she said, gesturing to his outfit. "I'm pretty sure I have something for you. Wait right here."

She hurried from the kitchen then, passing him as she disappeared down the hallway. While she was gone, he had finished his food and simply sat there awkwardly, waiting for her to return. When she did, she looked a little flustered, her hair slightly a mess, but she gave him another awkward but sincere smile and said, "I left some jeans and a t-shirt for you on the bed; they're my brothers, so they're probably a bit big, but I figured they'd be fine for now."

Loki glanced around at her kitchen briefly before he gave her a slight nod of the head, saying, "You have my thanks."

An awkward silence ensued.

The woman ruffled her hair with her hand, exhaling deeply as Loki observed her politely. She was trying to look at anywhere but him, but her eyes kept floating over to him, which amused him slightly. After a few tense moments of her drumming her fingers on the counter, she said, "So. What's your name?"

"Loki," he replied after a pause. "Of Asgard."

"Loki of Asgard," she repeated, sounding a little dubious. But she nodded, humoring him. "Okay; nice to meet you."

"And you are?"

"Oh," she said, embarrassed that she forgot to introduce herself. "Michelle. Of… Sydney."

"Sydney?" Loki questioned. "Is this not Manhattan?"

"Yes," Michelle answered. "But I'm not from here."

"I see," he replied. "Is this not the same Manhattan that had been, uh…" he cleared his throat slightly.

"Invaded?" Michelle offered. "Yes. I don't know the details, though; I was out of town visiting my parents. I really dodged a bullet with that one…"

He stood then, slowly approaching her, but he stopped when he was a few feet away. He was sure he knew the answer, but he wanted to double check. "You are the woman from the alleyway, yes?"

"I didn't think you'd be conscious enough to remember," Michelle replied, leaning back against the counter, her hands gripping the edge gently.

"Why did you help me?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. She closed is slowly, still looking at him before she shrugged a shoulder and replied, "I… don't know. You… you were hurt, and passed out on the concrete, I couldn't just… leave you there."

"You would help a stranger?"

"Well… yes," Michelle replied with conviction.

He chuckled, a quiet but almost cruel sound. "You don't know who I am, do you?"

"Loki," she answered warily, repeating his earlier words. "Of Asgard."

"Do you believe that to be true?"

She swallowed thickly. Her hands began to clutch the counter behind her harder. She was afraid of him. Good. She should be.

"I'm starting to."

"Then you'll know that I am a god," Loki said in a soft but menacing voice. "And one should always kneel before a god."

All of Michelle's fear seemed to vanish instantly, her expression replaced with a look of profound annoyance and outraged disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"I said kneel," Loki ordered.

She shot him a defiant glare, arms crossing over her chest. "I am _not_ kneeling for anyone, _especially_ not some powerless whacko in a Matrix costume."

"I am a _god_, you mewling quim!" He yelled at her. "I may be powerless, but I am still a god! Now _KNEEL!_"

"Let me put something into perspective for you," Michelle yelled back. She gestured out the window. "People out there aren't nice! Okay? If it had been anyone else that had seen you fall from the sky, they would have left you there to rot in the alleyway, not carry you and all twenty pounds of your fetish leather to their personal apartment! If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't be sitting here, right now, safe and warm with food. I am the _only person_ on your side right now willing to give you some sort of sanctuary. If you want to keep that, then I suggest you drop the god act and start being civil."

Loki simply started at her, his expression a mix of being surprised and impressed. No one, aside from Thor and Odin, had ever yelled at him like that before. _Especially _not someone of lower was staring him down defiantly, just _daring_ him to even try and tell her that she was out of line. But he knew that she was right. He may have been proud, but he wasn't stupid; he hadn't exactly hid his face when he was trying to rule the humans. Any other person who would have found him would probably have killed him right then and there. He was lucky enough that a person who clearly didn't know he'd been involved in the whole invasion found him; she was literally his only ally in all of Midgard right now. He wasn't sure if he liked that too much, but he couldn't exactly be choosy.

"You're quite right," he said in a soft voice. He bowed his head apologetically to her, though it was as if he was forcing himself to comply. "Forgive me."

"Right," Michelle answered skeptically. She walked passed him to grab his plate from the table before turning back to dump everything in the sink, rinsing the dishes briefly. She worked quickly, as if she were trying to get away from him, and Loki couldn't help but watch her. She was definitely unlike any human he'd ever met before. Perhaps not as clever as the Black Widow, but still very interesting. Once she was done cleaning, she met his gaze, still looking slightly annoyed.

"I have to go to work," she told him. "You're welcome to stay here for the day. There's plenty of food, TV, books in the spare bedroom where I've put your clothes, and until we figure out what you're doing with yourself, you can stay as long as you'd like."

"You are very kind," Loki told her, but it was more of a surprised observation than a compliment.

"Yeah, well," Michelle glanced away, her hand coming up to rumple her ponytail again. A nervous habit, Loki noted. "Sometimes I think I'm too kind."

She walked passed him again and headed for the bathroom, closing the door behind her. As he heard the sound of water running, Loki decided he might as well change his clothes, so he ventured down the short hallway to the spare bedroom. Just as she'd promised, Michelle had placed a set of simple human clothes on the single bed, and he began the rather lengthy process of removing his Asgardian attire, all heavy leather and metal with lots of buckles and closures.

By the time Michelle emerged from the bathroom, Loki had pulled on the jeans, observing the black t-shirt curiously. She was only wrapped in a towel, her hair slightly damp as she clutched her pajamas in her arms. She leaned forward slightly to peer around the door frame, to see what he was doing, and was met with the sight of him standing there shirtless, back to her as he messed with the shirt. He was wiry and lean, the muscles in his back flexing slightly as he moved. One thing she noticed was that his skin was _flawless_; she didn't see a freckle anywhere, other than a few scars here and there. She had to admit that Dylan was right; he was definitely Hottie McHothot.

Loki pulled the t-shirt over his head and torso, which snapped Michelle from her thoughts. She hurried to her room without a sound, closing the door behind her, and quickly changing into a pair of jeans and a casual purple button-down shirt. She rolled her sleeves up to her elbows before setting to work on her hair, expertly tying up her damp curls into a French braid. After pulling on some socks, she went into the living room to retrieve her purse, checking to make sure her keys were there, and then decided to check on her house guest.

"Uh," she said softly, making her way to the spare bedroom. She rapped her knuckled on the door frame. "Loki?"

He was in the middle of inspecting her large bookshelf, running his finger along the spines when he met her gaze. Michelle was chewing on her lip again, her blue eyes filled with uncertainty as she shifted from one foot to the other. It was weird, she thought, calling him by his name.

"I'm leaving now," she told him. "Like I said, help yourself to anything; TV, food, the shower… and I'll be back as soon as I can. Oh! And if the phone or door rings – it shouldn't, but if it does – just… just leave it."

Loki gave a simple nod. "I understand."

"Okay," Michelle said, as she turned to leave. "Have a nice day."

As she left the apartment, she couldn't shake the nervous feeling sitting in her stomach. She just hoped he wouldn't go anywhere. She was still a little dubious about his whole 'I am a god' speech, but she was definitely under the impression that he wasn't from this _time_, and the last thing she needed was Loki getting into trouble. A small pain started up above her eye and she rubbed at the stress headache wearily.

It was going to be a very long day…

* * *

**Author's Note: **I know, I know, OC's, right? I just wanted to frolic in the Land of What Ifs a play with the idea of someone learning to eventually love Loki, something he believes to be impossible. I'm trying SO HARD not to make her a Sue. Really, really hard. It's difficult, because Michelle is meant to be completely and utterly good, as a way to make Loki go through a change later in the story. You can all hit me if she gets Sue-ish. Promise.

Shout out to my wonderful BETA. :hearts:


	3. Chapter Two: An Uneasy Truce

**Author's Note: **I'm glad that you all like Michelle so far. I'm working very hard on making her a believable character, someone to balance out Loki's darkness and make him believe that he's worth something. As I said, every one of you can slap me if she starts to delve into Sue territory.

* * *

_**Changed**_

* * *

_Chapter Two: An Uneasy Truce_

* * *

"Alright, John, Katie, you two are going to need to move down stage left a bit, I won't tell you again. Where is Andrew? Is he in costume yet?"

The director was busy putting about the empty theatre, going over the choreography and blocking for the replacement cast members. He was a tall, middle-aged Englishman with dark brown hair and gray eyes, and he always looked incredibly serious. His name was Derek, and he was part of the reason why Michelle's stress headache hadn't gone away since that morning. She sat in one of the plush velvet chairs in the audience rubbing her temples, a headset with a microphone on her head and a clipboard with scenes and schedules on her lap.

"Miss Taylor," Derek called. She was convinced his was the only English accent she hated hearing.

"Yes, Derek," Michelle called back, trying to be polite.

"Where is Andrew? You're supposed to be keeping track of this."

"Here!" a voice called from the stage, and a handsome young man with jelled black hair dressed in a suit emerged from the wings. "Sorry, the suit wasn't sitting properly."

"Fine," Derek said shortly. "Alright, now that Andrew's here, we're going to take the number from the top. William will cue you in."

Michelle sighed as she slumped further down in her seat, the pounding in her head becoming unbearable as she was forced to listen to the same song she'd heard twenty times since that morning. Ordinarily she wouldn't mind, but with one thing piling up after another, it started to grate on her nerves. All she could do was thank the lord that she only managed the matinees and that there was a replacement for the evening shows, because she really didn't think she could deal with it. Add to that an irritable _asshole_ director and the new stress of Loki home alone in her apartment, and there was an incredibly cranky _Miss Taylor_ currently in the building. The creak of the seat next to her being occupied caused her to look up, and she was met with the beautiful sight of Dylan holding out a Starbuck's cup to her. Her face spread into a grateful smile as she took the cup, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek.

"How did you know?" she asked him, bringing the cup to her lips. She was met with the sweet flavor of tea, and she groaned in grateful satisfaction.

"I'm amazing, that's how," he replied, taking a sip of his own drink. "Derek giving you a hard time?"

"Derek's just… being Derek," Michelle answered with a sigh, adjusting the microphone on her headset so it was out of her face. "And this morning I had to deal with Jeremy again, helping him with all of his paperwork… seriously, how the hell did he get that job?"

"Who knows?" Dylan said shrugging. "But Eileen's already thinking of firing him; if you hadn't gotten him to send in that contract to Andrew yesterday, the entire production would have been screwed."

"Well, you're welcome," she replied with a smile, taking another sip of her drink.

"How's Hottie McHothot?"

"Oh," Michelle said lamely. The distraction of tea had made her temporarily forget about her strange houseguest. "He's, uh… at home."

"By himself?" Dylan arched a brow questioningly.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I talked to him this morning."

"Oh?" he turned so that his entire torso was facing her, very interested in what she had to say. "And?"

"He's… a little weird," she admitted. She wasn't exactly sure how much information she wanted to give Dylan, or if he would even believe her. "I'm still not one hundred percent sure on the details of what happened, but… he's alive. I guess that's a start."

"So what's his name?" Dylan asked.

"Loki," Michelle told him dubiously.

"Loki?"

"Yeah, I know," she laughed, taking another sip of her tea. "He demanded that I kneel in front of him today, too."

Dylan raised a brow. "Well… did you?"

"No," Michelle said, sounding almost insulted he even asked. "I told him off and said he needed to change his attitude towards the person who saved his life."

"He's totally into bondage," Dylan decided, settling back into his seat and crossing his legs. Michelle coughed on her tea and looked at him in horror.

"Perfect," she said sarcastically. "That's exactly what I need; a kink freak living in my apartment. Let's hope he doesn't try to tie me up at night while I'm sleeping."

"What's this about a kink freak?" A small girl named Angela said, plopping into the seat next to Michelle. She was a tiny Asian girl, one of the dancers in the show, her big brown eyes lighting up with interest at their conversation.

"Michelle's new roommate," Dylan told her with a grin, nudging Michelle in the arm.

"I helped him out yesterday, and now he's staying in my apartment for a bit," Michelle replied, rolling her eyes at Dylan. "It's nothing."

"Oh, okay," Angela answered, seemingly disappointed that the conversation wasn't more interesting. "Anyway, just wondering when break was; I have to make a phone call and I'm actually starving…"

Michelle checked her watch as she picked up her clipboard, getting into her feet. "Right now, actually. Hey, Derek!"

"What?" Derek snapped at her, on the stage talking to Andrew the actor. Michelle tried not to roll her eyes at him as she tapped her watch. He groaned. "Are you serious?"

"Equity rules," she replied. "Regular breaks."

"Fine," he answered, turning away to leave the stage. "Everyone, take a break."

"Be back at quarter after!" Michelle called out to the actors and dancers shuffling off the stage. She sat down again next to Dylan, removing her headset with a sigh as she rubbed at her eyes. "My _god_, it's been such a long day…"

"Probably going to be even longer now, with your new kinky boy toy," Dylan said with a smirk.

"I hate you," Michelle shot back with a sense of finalty.

* * *

She was finally allowed to go home. The replacement stage manager came in to work the evening show and Michelle gratefully packed up her things. She called goodbye to her coworkers as she made her way out of the theatre and onto the street where she hailed a cab. The last thing she needed was a possibility of getting mugged again, and she was too tired to walk home. Giving her address to the driver as she slid into the back seat, the door closed behind her with a satisfying thud and she got comfortable as the car started along the road. She took this opportunity to think and decide what to do about Loki.

Michelle wasn't unfamiliar with the Norse gods. She never studied them in detail, but she remembered doing a small unit on Vikings when she was in elementary school and the names of the Norse gods had come up; Loki's included. He was either a radical, so in love with the mythology that he believed his own story, or he was _actually_ serious and was really of Asgard. The last one would explain how he managed to fall twenty or more feet from the sky without severely injuring himself, and the costume… but she still wanted to talk to him and make sure. Ordinarily she wouldn't believe any of it, but since the invasion in New York, everyone's opinions of what was possible and what wasn't changed drastically.

The cab pulled up in front of her apartment building and she slipped the driver a twenty, telling him to keep the change, before climbing out of the cab. Making her way across the lobby to the elevators, they opened to reveal the same old woman from yesterday, who'd been giving Loki weird looks. Michelle gave her a small smile as she stepped into the elevator next to her, pressing the '5' button to go to her floor.

"No cousin today?" The old woman asked. Michelle was confused for a second before she remembered the story she'd made up.

"Oh," she said. "No, he stayed home today. On my way to check on him now."

"I hope you managed to get him out of those strange clothes and into something a little more normal," the old woman said.

"I did," Michelle answered with a smile as the elevator stopped on her floor. She stepped out. "Have a nice day."

She fished in her purse for her keys as she made her way down the hallway, deciding to take out her mace for good measure. Fitting the key into the slot, she was relieved to find that it was still locked; that was a good sign. Opening the door, she slowly entered, straining her ears for the slightest of sounds, but she was only met with silence. She threw her keys back in her purse, dropping it to the floor as she kicked off her shoes. With the can of mace in hand, she slowly made her way down the hallway to the spare bedroom where she'd last seen him.

"Loki?" she called hesitantly, peering into the room. She saw him sitting in the wooden 'reading chair', she called it, one of his elbows on the arm, a book in his hand. She recognized the black hardcover with ornate green designs all over it; he was reading _Wicked_, by Gregory Maguire, one of Michelle's favorite titles. He was so entranced by the story that he didn't notice her come in as she crossed the room and sat on the single bed across from him. "Good book?"

His head snapped up in alarm, hastily closing the book as if he'd been caught doing something bad. She raised a brow but gave him a smile, tucking the mace into the pocket of her sweater.

"Don't stop reading on my account," she said, gesturing to the book. "Go for it; it's a great read."

"You… enjoy this story?" Loki asked.

"Yeah, it's one of my favorites," she answered. "Elphaba's such an interesting character. A lot of people relate to her because… I think they know how she feels; they know how it is to feel like you don't belong anywhere."

Loki's face suddenly darkened. "You know _nothing_ of how it feels to not belong anywhere."

Michelle raised a brow. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to strike a nerve." She sounded confused.

He'd taken to staring at the cover of the book instead of looking at her now, not saying a word. Michelle watched him for a moment, waiting to see if he'd do or say something, but he kept still and quiet, much to her frustration. He was certainly a short fuse… She willed her patience, though, and sighed, stretching her arms above her head as she got to her feet.

"I'm making dinner," she told him, heading for the door. "What do you want?"

"I don't have a preference," he replied stiffly.

"Stir fry it is, then," Michelle said, already halfway to the kitchen.

Nearly an hour later, the apartment was filled with the smell of cooked chicken, vegetables, spices and rice. As far as she knew, Loki was still sulking in the spare bedroom , so by the time dinner was served on white plates, she decided to just leave it on the table for him as she made her way into the living room.

"Food's in the kitchen," she called to him as she flicked on the TV. She flipped through channels until she eventually decided on a _Friends_ rerun, sinking into the couch cushions as she started on her meal. She was halfway through her plate when Loki eventually came into the living room, joining her on the couch. They both sat at complete opposite ends, a large gap between them. The air always seemed to get tense and heavy whenever he was in the room… though, that could just be Michelle's imagination, as well. She glanced over at him, noticing that his jaw and face looked relatively relaxed, but the hand that rested on his thigh was clenched into a fist. He was clearly unhappy. She half wished him and his unhappiness hadn't bothered coming to sit with her.

Michelle clicked her tongue, drumming her fingers on the arm of the couch as she tried to decide what to say. While she fidgeted uncomfortably, he stayed perfectly still, his only movement the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, or the twitch of his muscles in his neck as he swallowed. No tapping fingers, no bouncing knees… he didn't seem to have any nervous habits at all. For some reason that made her uneasy.

"So," she said, trying to break the silence. "Loki of Asgard. What brings you to Earth?"

He didn't reply. The only telltale sign that he'd heard her was his jaw suddenly clenching. She eyed him warily, worried that he would blow up at any second.

"Do you… come in peace?" She asked hesitantly, leaning away from him a little more.

Loki scoffed. "I am not some science fiction creature your people have invented for entertainment."

"See, now, I'm starting to think otherwise," she replied, turning her whole body to face him. "First of all, you fell from the sky at an undisclosed height without _dying_, you barely got any scratches, the most you walked away with was a headache, and the minute you wake up, you start trying to subjugate me, claiming that you're a god."

"I _am_ a god," Loki snapped.

"Good for you!" Michelle said, throwing up her hands in frustration. "But as I recall, you said you were powerless, so I think that knocks your god status down a few pegs."

"I never-" he started, but then realized that she was right; he was _very _powerless, and he'd told her so that morning. He'd almost forgotten that Odin had taken away his powers. As if to prove it to himself, he willed his armor to appear on his body; his long green cape, the horned helmet. But it didn't appear. Odin had taken away _everything_. He was _mortal_. "I am… powerless."

Michelle tilted her head as she looked at him, twirling a dark curl around her finger. "May I ask how a god suddenly _becomes_ powerless?"

Loki's green eyes flicked over to her briefly before glancing away again. "Let's just say that I haven't exactly been on my best behavior and I'm being punished for it."

She simply sat there, looking at him with a brow raised. She remained quiet, but the silence made Loki feel as if she were shouting her questions at him. It was infuriating, the way she just sat there patiently and looked at him with those bright blue eyes. Eventually he hissed through his teeth and turned to look at her full in the face, his patience wearing thin.

"I was second in line to the throne of Asgard," he said in a tangent. "I grew jealous of my older brother, Thor. I wanted to prove that I could do a better job than him. So, I took matters into my own hands, and my father took my powers and banished me here to this realm. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Through his little speech of rage, she was surprised to hear a hint of honest sadness in his voice. She liked to believe that she was perceptive and could tell when people were lying, but that had proved not to be the case on occasion… Even so, with the look in his eyes and the way he seemed legitimately upset about his predicament led her to believe that he was being truthful.

"So, let me get this straight," Michelle said, wanting to make sure she understood. "Your adoptive father Odin banished you from Asgard for acting out on your jealousy to your brother Thor?"

Loki huffed slightly. "More or less."

Though she wondered what it was he could have done that caused Odin to banish him, her immediate thought was that she felt sorry for him; to be left to fend for yourself with nothing in a strange place as a form of punishment… and Michelle thought her parents had been severe when they'd grounded her from the computer when she was a teenager. Loki's punishment was… extreme.

"Dude, I'm sorry," she said sincerely.

He raised a brow. "You are?"

She nodded. "That's rough."

"And you actually believe me?" He seemed doubtful.

"I know I probably shouldn't," Michelle answered slowly, sitting cross-legged. "And I'm probably _crazy_… and I'm _definitely _going to regret this at some point, I know it… but New York has seen so many crazy things lately that believing them is a little easier. So, yeah; I believe you."

Loki just cleared his throat softly as he shifted, leaning against the arm of the couch. He didn't say anything, but she had a feeling that that was his silent way of saying thank you. She smiled to herself as she grabbed one of the couch cushions and hugged it to her chest, turning to mindlessly watch the TV again. As she did so, a new thought came to mind, and the question was out of her mouth before she could even think about it.

"So how long is your punishment supposed to be?"

"Until my father decides I've learned my lesson, I suppose," Loki replied stiffly. "But until then, I suppose it doesn't really matter, does it?"

She glanced at him sadly, noticing the bitterness in his voice. She'd never been banished from her home and family, she left and came to New York on her own, but she still missed them terribly. She could only imagine what Loki was feeling. Despite his honesty, however, she still got the sense that he didn't trust her. Not that she could really blame him; she didn't exactly trust him, either, but she needed to take what he was telling her in good faith. She just hoped it wouldn't come to bite her in the butt later…

"Hey, listen," Michelle said after a while, tracing random patterns on the pillow. "I know this is the last place you want to be, and I'm the last person you want to be with, but… you can trust me. I'll help you get home."

Loki gave a humorless laugh. "And how, exactly, do you plan to do that?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Maybe… help you learn whatever lesson it is you need to learn?"

"Even I don't know what the lesson is. There may not even be a lesson, so how do you expect to help me learn it?" He snapped. "Thank you for the sentiment, but I don't need your pity."

"I'm not giving you pity," Michelle said firmly. "I'm giving you a chance. Face it, Loki, your options are pretty slim here. If you're really from Asgard that means you don't know how to live among humans. How do you expect to survive?"

"I have survived things beyond your wildest dreams," He said darkly, facing her fully now. His eyes, so green and intense, seemed to bore into her and she forced herself to take a deep breath, to not be afraid of him. He was powerless, she kept telling herself. He couldn't do anything. "I have fought battles that make your petty wars here on Earth look like nothing but scuffles among children. I am a _god_, you insolent whelp, so how do _you_ expect to help _me_ do _anything_?"

Through his yelling, Michelle's anger began to bubble to the surface. He was seriously pulling this act again? _Really_? As soon as he was done his speech, she grabbed hold of her pillow and proceeded to throw it at him so that it hit him hard in the face. He sat there stunned for a moment, shocked that she _dared_ do such a thing, and by the time he turned his eyes to her again, she was off the couch, standing defiantly above him, her breath labored with anger.

"_You_! Are _not! _A _god_!" She yelled at him. "If you are a god, then prove your power! Go on! _Magic_ me into submission! Blow something up; summon thunder and lighting to smite me where I stand, I _dare_ you!"

They simply stared at each other for a long time, both glaring, Michelle huffing in fury. He tried to stare her down so that she'd look away, apologize, and realize that she's been out of line for speaking to him in such a manner, but she didn't. Instead, her blue eyes bore into his green, defiant, strong and unwavering. Every time he'd begun to yell at her, she would stand her ground and yell right back. For a moment, she reminded him of Sif; a beautiful maiden, a woman that looked to be delicate like a flower, but her will was always something that surpassed Loki's. He'd clearly underestimated this Michelle, and as much as he wished he could smite her where she stood, he couldn't.

He was the first to look away, eyes turned to the floor in defeat.

"Let me remind you again," She said slowly, her voice level, but he could still hear the traces of anger. "You have no power here. As much as you don't want to admit it, you are _exactly_ like everyone else now; _human_ and _mortal_. The sooner you accept and realize that, the sooner we can move on."

She returned to her place on the couch again, plopping heavily onto the cushion and resting her head in her hand. She sighed before turning to look at him again, annoyed that he hadn't said anything yet.

"You know, people are usually a lot nicer to those who try and help them." She said sharply.

"People have never really had a reason to help me," Loki answered. "If you knew half of what I've done, you wouldn't be helping me at all."

"Oh for god's sake, I don't _care_ what you've done," Michelle said in frustration, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. "I _don't_ care. I care about _you_, for whatever reason, and as much as I'd love to just let you walk out of here and find your own way, my conscience won't let me. I'll do whatever I have to do to make myself sleep better at night, and if that means taking care of you, then… deal with it."

She got up off the couch again, grabbing her dinner plate and eating utensils and tromping passed him to the kitchen. He heard the sound of water running from the sink as he thought about what she'd said. For whatever reason, this woman was adamant about helping him. He didn't know why, and clearly neither did she, but she was serious about ensuring that he stayed safe. He supposed he should just thank his lucky stars and go along with it; the sooner he cooperated, the sooner he could leave. Maybe if he changed his behavior, Odin would let him return to Asgard and he could live there as the shamed prince, the adopted Frost Giant bastard, forever living in Thor's shadow. Loki scoffed to himself. Part of him wished Odin had just executed him and been done with it; being banished to Earth was no different than living normally on Asgard. At the heart of it all, he would be shunned and despised in both places. The only difference was he had powers and a fake title on Asgard, but he'd never be allowed near the throne again. The shadow of a would-be King was all that remained of Loki now.

He weighed his options; he could either stay here with Michelle (who clearly wasn't aware that he was involved in the invasion) and try to live a normal life. Or he could try his hand at making his own way and risk getting arrested or recaptured by SHIELD. They had eyes everywhere, and they would not be kind to him once they found out he was back on Earth and very much powerless. Loki hissed through his teeth in annoyance, but he knew the proper course of action to take. That didn't mean he liked it, though… Getting up from the couch, he tromped off to the kitchen, annoyed with himself for what he was about to do. He rounded the corner, leaning against the wall as Michelle stood at the sink, back turned to him as she washed dishes with a little more rigor than necessary.

"I accept," he said simply.

"Accept what?" she snapped back, without looking at him.

"Your help."

She paused with her dish washing and dropped the cup she had been scrubbing out for the past two minutes in the sink. Slowly turning to face him, her hands still wet and soapy, she appraised him, searching his face carefully. He kept his features a blank mask as she studied him. He was just putting up with this for as long as he needed to.

"Fine," she said. "But I have conditions."

Loki sighed and dropped his head into his hands. He rubbed at his eyes with his fingers, saying tiredly, "What are they?"

"You have to change your attitude," Michelle said, grabbing a dishtowel and drying her hands. "You need to drop the whole 'I hate everything' thing; I can't deal with a constant dark cloud of negativity, it kills my mojo. You don't have to be obnoxiously happy all the time, but try and… lighten up."

He supposed that was easy enough; he liked fun. Maybe he'd have to reinvent his idea of fun, perhaps, due to his lack of powers now, but he was sure he could find ways to entertain himself. He looked up at her again. "Fair enough. Anything else?"

"House work," she said, crossing her arms. "If you're going to be living here, too, you can at least lend a hand. Cleaning up after yourself, doing dishes every now and then. Also, general rule, my bedroom is off limits. Other than that… mi casa su casa."

Loki titled his head to the side in confusion.

"My house is your house," Michelle translated.

"Understood," he answered with a slight bow of his head. "And thank you. Is that all?"

"No, I have a few more things," she continued. "You need to trust me. Not today. Not tomorrow, but eventually. Take it at your own pace, I suppose, but… I'm not your enemy. Even if we never end up being friends – which… I'd like to be, at some point – I'd at least like us to be civil with each other."

He was surprised at how sincere she was. She truly wanted to be friends with him. He wasn't sure which surprised him more; the fact that she helped a total stranger or the fact that she was so willing to accept him into her life. He supposed things could be worse, though.

"Eventually," he answered her after a moment. "Was that the last of your conditions?"

"One more."

"Let's hear it, then."

"You need to let me cut your hair."

Loki looked at her in surprise, frowning slightly as he reached a hand back and touched his feathery black locks. "What's wrong with my hair?"

"Have you _seen_ your hair?" Michelle said, raising a brow as she leaned back against the counter. "It's ridiculous."

Loki pouted slightly. "It's not ridiculous…"

"The back is," she assured him.

He sighed. If that were what it would take for him to stay there, then he'd do it. "Fine…"

"Thank you," she seemed to breathe in relief. She then pointed to the kitchen chair and gave him a rather stern look. "Sit. I have barber's scissors in the bathroom."

"What, now?" He asked incredulously.

"No time like the present," she chirped.

Loki complied and sat down at the table lamely. As he waited for Michelle to return with her tools, he rubbed at his eyes again and wondered idly if getting arrested by SHIELD would be easier.

* * *

**Author's Note:**Loki's crazy feathery, flippy hair needed to go. I'm sorry. As amazing as he was in The Avengers, I missed the way he was in Thor. Especially his hair. I don't know why. So… hair!

Also, sorry about a shorter chapter this time around. The lengths will fluctuate.


	4. Chapter Three: A Rocky Start

_**Changed**_

* * *

_Chapter Three: A Rocky Start_

* * *

Loki had to admit that he felt much better now that his hair was cut. Michelle hadn't sacrificed his personal style at all, she just took off the unnecessary length in the back, the way he'd once worn it in a simpler time on Asgard before he discovered his true parentage, before Thor's banishment. It almost felt like a weight had been lifted from him in some way, like a sense of relief and he was much more comfortable now. He was surprised, but he decided she'd done a surprisingly good job as he observed his hair in the bathroom mirror. He reminded himself to _try_ and give her more credit.

She left him to his own devices as she swept up the pieces of cut hair off the floor, and he found himself back in the spare – rather _his_, now – bedroom, picking up the _Wicked_ book some reason, he found it compelling and interesting. Not only just the story, but the way it was written, as well. It was political and thoughtful, but it also spoke of magic, which was always something he found interesting. What intrigued him the most, however, was the title character, this Elphaba. Misunderstood and neglected by her family, he was surprised he felt for her so much. He supposed it made sense; they were both bastard children, both the product of lies. Elphaba was much more cynical than him, but he understood was she was the way she was. What he didn't understand was why _humans_ felt for her so much.

"Michelle," he said, stepping into the kitchen with the book again. She was back to doing the dishes, drying them off and putting them away. "Why is it humans relate to this book so much?"

She glanced over to the book in his hand briefly before placing a few cups in the cupboard. "I wouldn't say it's the most relatable book in the world, but people who read it relate to the character because we've all felt that way before."

"Of not belonging?" He clarified. "Have you ever felt like that?"

"Sure," she said, shrugging, standing up on her tiptoes again to put a few more cups away. "Everyone has."

"But you're human," he pressed. "None of you have green skin, or are a monster."

"You're taking it too literally," Michelle said, turning to look at him. "It's not about how similar we are to her, it's about how we feel. For example, I was never very popular in school, and growing up, I felt really awkward and people made fun of me because kids are cruel. I felt like I didn't belong. I don't have green skin or anything, but I was still disliked by some people and those people made fun of me; it's the same thing. I may not have been ostracized by everyone, but I've definitely felt alone like that before."

Loki listened carefully to what she had to say before looking down at the book again. He frowned, thinking hard, before asking, "What becomes of her in the end?"

Michelle smiled as she poured herself a glass of water. After putting the water jug back in the fridge, she approached him, patting him briefly on the shoulder.

"Keep reading," she said with a smile as she returned to the living room.

* * *

The next week was an awkward adjustment into their new routine. They still weren't totally sure about each other, but Michelle pushed aside the tension she felt and went about her business and Loki did his best to stay out of her way. She would make him breakfast in the morning, she'd get ready to go to work, he would stay home and read all day, and when she came home, she'd cook diner and watch television or read her book, curled up in the corner of the couch as she always did.

Loki eventually started joining her on the couch so they could eat together, watching whatever shows she was watching as they sat on opposite ends of the couch. The television was intriguing to him at first, and a few of the shows she enjoyed watching were entertaining and interesting, but it bored him for the most past; eventually, he'd always go back to his book.

Aside from the awkwardness between them thanks to the lack of real conversation, Michelle found him to be a good roommate. He was tidy, he respected her privacy, and he was quiet. She was glad the he dropped the whole 'god' act, but she still felt that he held a sense of superiority over her, though that could have just been her imagination. Halfway through the fourth week, however, she noticed Loki was fidgety and restless, something that was odd for him. After their usual dinner in front of the television, he got up to put his plate in the kitchen. Michelle fully expected him to retreat into his bedroom to read some more, but instead he came back, his shoulders squared.

"I need to get out," he announced.

Michelle's brows shot up. "Pardon?"

"I've been cooped up in this apartment for nearly a month," Loki said. "I'm going mad. I need to get outside, walk around, _something_. I'm used to be able to going wherever I'd like."

She nodded slowly, realizing that he was right; he'd basically been kept prisoner in her apartment. She turned off the television and got to her feet.

"Okay," she said. "Sure. Just… one second."

She left him in the living room as she headed down the hallway to his bedroom, opening the door to the closet. She knew her brother had left a few things here when he last visited, and she found a pair of his sneakers stuffed with a pair of clean socks. That was incredibly convenient. She also grabbed his light hoodie, just in case it was a bit chilly. As she thought about it, though, she wondered if taking Loki outside was a good idea. What if he ran away or something? Then she scoffed at her own idea. He wouldn't run away. And even if he did, there was nothing she could do about that. He wasn't her prisoner, and if he wanted to leave, then… he could.

She returned to the living room, where he was inspecting trinkets and photos she had up on the fireplace mantle, and cleared her throat to get his attention. She extended the sweater and shoes to him.

"Here," she said. "My brother left a lot of clothes here last time he was over. I hope the shoes fit you. They should, I mean, you two are pretty close to the same size."

"Thank you," Loki said, taking the shoes from her. He observed them curiously for a moment, clearly a little bemused by their appearance. White with gray and blue lines along the sides, and gray soles. He sat on the couch to pull the footwear on, wiggling his feet into the sneakers. They weren't uncomfortable, but they certainly weren't what he was used to wearing. They fit him perfectly, which Michelle was pleased about. She then handed him the hoodie.

"It may be a bit cold outside," she told him. He humored her, unzipping the dark gray sweater and pulling it on. It was a bit big on him, baggy in the arms and in the torso, but it would suffice for now.

She grabbed her cell phone and keys, already wearing her usual boots and a sweater. As an afterthought, she went and grabbed her mace, as well. She then held the door open for Loki, and passed her to step out into the hallway, waiting as she locked her door. When the lock clicked into place, she shoved her keys in her pocket, leading the way down the hallway, passing a variety of doors with numbers on the front.

"Other people live behind these doors?" Loki asked.

Michelle nodded. "It's an apartment complex; I think there's about a hundred other people living in this building."

"Why do you insist on stuffing yourselves into places like this?" He asked.

"It's convenient for space," she explained.

"You all treat yourselves like ants in a hive," he said almost disdainfully.

"Ants are effective workers," she countered.

"Perhaps," he said. "But they're easily disposed of."

She shot him an unimpressed look as she pressed the down button for the elevator, but she didn't say anything. _It'll take some time_, she reminded herself, tapping her fingers against her leg as she waited. The metal doors opened and she gestured for Loki to step inside before she followed him in, pressing the 'L' button.

"So where do you want to go?" She asked as the doors closed and the elevator began its slow decent.

"Anywhere," Loki said, adjusting the sweater that hung around his shoulders.

Michelle thought briefly about the best place to go on such short notice. As the elevator descended and opened up on the main floor, she decided on a spot.

"I know just the place," she said with a grin, and lead the way to the door.

Loki stepped outside and was immediately met with the sound of car horns. The streets were clogged with vehicles and taxis and busses. He wondered how she could live in such a noisy city. Asgard wasn't completely quiet – not when you had a brother like Thor – but there wasn't all of this industrial noise, either. He wasn't sure if he liked it at all… It didn't seem to faze Michelle, though; she led the way down the sidewalk purposefully, and he had no trouble keeping up with her.

He wasn't exactly sure where they were going. New York City was like a labyrinth to him, alleyways and streets lined with tall buildings (though not as tall as in Asgard) and seas of people and cars. Loki was slightly overwhelmed by it all. Asgard was certainly big but there was still a level of calm and peace there. Here it was just… chaos. He had expected the city to be slightly more laid back when not under attack.

"Why is everyone in such a hurry?" He mused aloud, glancing around as they walked along on street before turning down another. He and Michelle seemed to be the only people going for a leisurely stroll; everyone else was power walking.

Michelle chuckled. "Welcome to New York, the city that never sleeps. Everyone's always in a hurry here."

"You're not," Loki pointed out as she continued to lead him through the streets.

"I'm not from here," she reminded him. "This way. Watch the cars."

She began to cross an intersection towards a large park area, full of trees and grass. Central Park,he assumed. Loki looked around at the greenery, the giant trees lining the paved path. It was oddly calming, despite his last few moments in this park were spent in chains and a gag, even if it hadn't been this particular spot.

"I love it here," Michelle said, walking slowly down the path. "I forget how much I love it until I come back. It's nice to escape the city for a bit. Of course, it's nothing like home, but… it works."

Loki didn't answer. He was too busy looking around, some of the scenery reminding him of his own home. Well… what used to be. As a child on Asgard, Loki would sometimes sneak away from combat training with a book and hide out in the vast gardens for hours, just reading and practicing spells by himself. Thor was always the one to find him there, and would usually cover for his disappearances, at least until they were older. That was when Loki found his skill with throwing knives, and he had become much better at magic. Both skills he learned to use in combat. He was sure that Thor was the only person who knew where he went whenever he disappeared. Sometimes he'd even join Loki and watch as he practiced. How simple things were back then. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Their walk through the park was quiet, though it lacked the usual level of tension their silences usually held. He glanced over at Michelle, who almost seemed to be floating along beside him, a serene expression on her face. The park was mostly empty, the lights lighting the path they walked. Ahead in the distance, Loki saw a large rock – massive, really – that was surrounded by lit candles and lanterns. There seemed to be a few people by it, some placing flowers, toys or cards at its base.

"What is that?" He asked Michelle. She looked in the direction she pointed, and her expression sobered.

"That's the Invasion Memorial," she said. "It was put there about a month after those aliens came and attacked the city."

"You have a reminder of your city being invaded?" Loki asked incredulously.

"Not for the invasion itself," Michelle replied, shaking her head. "For the people we lost."

They approached the memorial just as the previous group was walking away. The front of it was smooth and polished, the sides left rough and raw. It was mounted up on three small stairs that were littered with gifts of all kinds. Michelle stopped in front of it, scanning the columned list of names that were carved into the rock. Eventually, she stretched out a hand and pointed to a name.

"Julia St. Claire," she read. "I worked with her; she was one of the office personnel I had to talk to all the time. And Morgan Thomas; she was one of the chorus members in a show I manage. She has a twin brother still in the cast; he misses her every day. Sam Watson was the husband of another chorus girl; she left the cast and moved in with her parents and her son; he's eight. Joe Anderson was the guy who ran the bookstore I used to frequent. It was blown up."

Loki was watching her as she spoke of the fallen. She didn't know every name on the list, but those that she did know, she mourned for them. Not with tears or wails of anguish and sorrow, but with a deep sadness in her eyes and her voice. For some reason, that made him feel slightly uncomfortable… an emotion he quickly realized was guilt. Almost as soon as it he realized it, he pushed it aside. What's done is done; there was no use dwelling on it.

Michelle quickly grew restless looking at the memorial rock and walked on without waiting for him. He fell into step next to her, thankful for an excuse to leave his guilt behind. He shouldn't feel guilty; he'd only done what he believed was right. That was all. He'd done nothing wrong. With that resolved, he straightened up slightly, his head held high.

Central Park was so large. Michelle led the way, doubling back to the main streets. She promised they'd go to other areas of the park later, and Loki complied. He was going to be there for a while, after all; better to take things slowly. As they walked, Michelle pointed out specific landmarks to him, such as the coffee shop where she always got coffee for her and the production team, some of the major buildings that were still intact, and the theatre where she worked. He filed that information away for later; he decided it would be good to know where she was during the day, just in case he got _really _bored and needed a change of scenery.

"So, that's all of it for now," she said, glancing at her watch. "It's getting late. We should head home."

"Whatever you'd like," he answered. "I've seen all I've needed to for today. Thank you for taking me out."

"Anytime," Michelle replied. "Next time you can choose where we go."

"I'll leave the decision making up to you," Loki suggested. "I wouldn't even know where to begin."

She chuckled as they walked back to the apartment. "Deal."

* * *

The next day was as normal as always; Michelle got up, made breakfast for her and Loki, hopped in the shower and got ready for her day of work. He learned quickly to let her be in the mornings, to give her space as she got ready. He began to make a point of getting up to use the washroom before she got in there to shower, otherwise it was just painful. He'd made that mistake once during week two and walked in on her just as she was about to strip to get into the shower. Needless to say, she wasn't happy, though he had to admit she had impressive aim; as soon as he walked in, she'd grabbed her hairbrush and biffed it at his face. Fortunately, his reflexes were faster and he managed to pull the door closed just in time so that the brush hit the wood with a loud thud before clattering to the floor. After that day, Loki knew to never venture into the bathroom when Michelle was in there again.

Though she had a quick temper and had a stubbornness that almost rivaled Thor's, Loki learned to tolerate the human woman. She was unfailingly kind and gentle, unless she was angry; then she tended to perform actions with a bit more _intensity _than necessary. He also noticed that she was rather set in her ways and had a process to everything; it was always a routine, familiar, and though it was annoying at first, he found that knowing what to expect a great comfort. For example, the cushions on the couch had to be a certain way when she wasn't hugging one to her lap as she watched television, which she always did. The kitchen was always as clean as possible, and everything in the cupboards had a specific place in both the kitchen and the bathroom. She always woke up at 7:30 every morning to start the day, and she was always out the door by 8:30 to start work at 9. Her purse was always by the door, along with her mace. He quickly noticed that she would always check for it. _Always_. Sometimes more than once.

His day was usually the same, as well; he'd get up, eat the breakfast she provided, would shower after she left for the day, and then spend the hours reading until she came home in the evenings. It was then she would start making dinner, they'd eat together in front of the television, and the silence would drag on. It was usually awkward. Sometimes it wasn't; but it usually was.

The day after their first walk together went very much like any other day. The routine was all there, planned and expected. At least until Michelle got home that afternoon.

Loki was lounging on his bed with a book – he was still making his way through _Wicked_ – when he heard the door open and nearly slam shut again. The sound of Michelle kicking off her shoes and dropping her bag on the ground was done with _intensity_, immediately alerting him of her anger. She'd never come home this angry before. Frustrated, yes, but never angry. The sounds of her intense entry stopped, and he waiting, listening for something else to happen.

"Oh my _GOD_!" She finally yelled from the door. Loki's curiosity got the better of him and he abandoned the book on the bed, peering down the hallway at her. Michelle was standing there, the heels of her hands over her eyes, huffing like a wild animal before she made a strange sort of strangled growling noise.

"Is something wrong?" Loki asked, perhaps a little too nonchalantly.

"Nothing," Michelle sighed, running her hands back over her dark curls before clasping her hands behind her neck. "Unless you count my boss being a total ass-hat, then yes, something is wrong."

"Ass-hat?" He echoed, confused as she started to pace.

"All he did today was just… pick at every little _teeny tiny_ detail," she ranted, ignoring Loki. "Things that were _so small_ that even the _Producer_ told him he was being ridiculous. But _no! Derek_ starts getting after _me_ because _I_ didn't notice the _microscopic_ error in the choreography…"

"Who is this Derek you always seem so frustrated about?" Loki questioned, leaning against the door frame of his room.

"My boss," she replied, rubbing her temples. "Brilliant director; biggest diva on the face of the earth."

Loki highly doubted that. He didn't know this Derek at all, but he was fairly certain that Tony Stark could give him a run for his money.

"Why do you let him bully you?"

"He kind of runs the show."

"I thought you ran the show," Loki deadpanned.

"I mean he's in charge of everything," she clarified. "All of the decisions on casting, lighting, costumes, they're all made by him, and if one tiny, minute detail it out of place, my head goes on the chopping block because apparently part of my job is to know where wardrobe or choreography gets messed up. All I'm in charge of is the rehearsal schedule and making sure people make their show cues on time. That's it! Sometimes I go get coffee if it's a slow day, but suddenly he expects me to do _everything_."

Loki didn't really understand any of what she'd just said, but he nodded in response nonetheless.

"I'm too angry to even think of cooking right now," Michelle grumbled, tromping off to the kitchen. "I'm ordering take-out."

"Take-out?"

"A restaurant will deliver food here," she said.

"As you wish," Loki answered, disappearing back into his room while Michelle mashed the buttons on her phone, grumbling curse words under her breath.

* * *

The next day was already proving to be a long one. They hadn't even had lunch yet, and Michelle was chomping at the bit to get home. Derek had stopped the rehearsal for _two hours_ to complain and yell and just generally act like a diva. He was currently in the middle of yelling at the dancers, getting after them for not incorporating the last minute choreography change.

Michelle had lost count of how many times Derek had screamed at her so far. He's yelled at her for calling break back a minute late, for not knowing where one of the chorus members were (she had been in the wings, making out with one of the stage hands), for letting him get behind schedule, for not going to get coffee, even though that wasn't her job… She just had to keep reminding herself that she was lucky enough to be doing something she liked, and if she kept doing good work, one day she'd be in the production office.

"I love my job, I love my job, I love… my… job…" she chanted, rubbing her temples. She was starting to get a stress headache. Dylan was sitting next to her, rubbing her back sympathetically.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I will be if I can punch him in his stupid face," Michelle grumbled. "If I threatened to do it, do you think he'd start to cry and say something like, 'No, not the face!'? I hope he does… oh man, that'd be _so _worth it…"

"You're certainly vindictive today," Dylan chuckled.

"Just because you're one of the top Broadway directors ever does _not _give you free reign to be a dick," she ranted.

"You're still not getting any from the boy toy, are you?"

Michelle shot Dylan a glare. "Dylan, I am _not_ going to sleep with him."

"Okay," he said with a laugh. "So when do I get to meet the mysterious Loki?"

"When you stop pestering me about it," she answered with a wry smile. "I want him to settle in and relax a bit before he starts meeting people."

"It's been a month," Dylan reminded her. "He must be relaxed by now."

"He's… getting better," Michelle said lamely. Truthfully, she wasn't exactly sure how to go about introducing Loki to people. She was worried he'd be all weird like he was when she first met him.

"Is he still pulling the god thing?" Dylan asked.

"Not anymore," she replied. "Actually, he's been pretty good lately."

As she leaned over her clipboard to check the schedule, the back doors of the theatre opened. Dylan glanced back to see who it was as Michelle rifled through the pages. She suddenly felt a series of taps on her arm that quickly turned into spastic hitting, something Dylan typically did whenever he saw an attractive guy. She glanced over at him to see his slack-jawed, wide-eyed look.

"What?" she asked as she looked around to the back of the auditorium, and her jaw dropped. Loki was standing there, dressed in his usual jeans and t-shirt, but instead of the hoodie she'd found him, he was sport a classy black blazer. She felt her heart drop into her stomach as she scrambled to her feet. "Shit…"

She hastily dropped her clipboard and took off her headset before running up the steps to meet him. He was observing the theatre curiously, clearly interested in everything that was going on; the people in costumes, the lights, the music, the sets, all of it. He barely noticed her coming to meet him until she grabbed his arm.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She hissed.

"I was bored," Loki said simply. "Your days always sound so exciting, so I thought I'd come visit."

"You can't just show up when I'm working," Michelle groaned. Then a sudden thought occurred to her and she looked up at him in worry. "Wait, did you lock the apartment?"

"I found the extra key under the mat," he answered, reaching into the blazer pocket and pulling out a single key. Michelle finally noticed the jacket and plucked at the lapel with curiosity.

"Where did you get this?"

"I found in the closet," Loki replied. "I assume it belongs to your brother?"

"Christ, did Mark leave everything in my apartment…?" She mused to herself. Then she shook her head. "Look, I'm sorry, but you need to leave. I'll be home soon."

"I'll be quiet," he promised.

"Loki, you don't understand," she almost pleaded. "My boss-"

"Miss Taylor," Derek's voice said behind her. She closed her eyes briefly in annoyance, willing her patience to stay in check, before slowly turning away from Loki to face him. She was met with his stupid face glaring at her. "Whatever issues you and your boyfriend may have can wait; in case you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of a rehearsal."

"He's not my boyfriend," Michelle corrected. "He's just my roommate."

"Look, I don't really care who he is, but your conversation can wait," Derek snapped. "Can he go get coffee?"

"Pardon?" Michelle was confused.

"Can. He. Go. Get. Coffee?" Derek said slowly.

"I-I… well, I… y-yes-" she squeaked.

"Good," Derek replied. "It's time for our lunch break, which you would know if you were actually doing your job."

He turned and made his way down the stairs to the stage, saying over his shoulder, "Send him on his way and then come see me; we need to go over the schedule for tomorrow."

"Right away," Michelle called back to him before she dropped her head in her hand and rubbed at her eyes.

"Well," Loki said once Derek was out of earshot. "I now understand what you mean by 'ass-hat'."

She sighed before turning to him, taking him by the shoulders. "Okay, I have a set of very specific instructions for you, so pay attention. I need you to go across the street to Joe's – there'll be big red letters on the front window, directly across from us – and tell them that Derek Davenport's cast and crew need coffee. They'll know what that means, so when they tell you someone will be over, thank them, leave, and then _come right back here_. We have a tab, they know us, so don't worry about money. Got that?"

"Of course," he answered, giving her a smile. "I'll just be a few moments."

"I mean it," Michelle said as he headed out the door. "Come right back, Loki, I'm serious; no detours!"

"Michelle!" Derek snapped from the stage. "Sometime today would be nice!"

She muttered curses to herself as she grabbed her clipboard and headset from her seat, ignoring Dylan's smirk as she marched down the stairs to meet with Derek.

* * *

Michelle was in the middle of talking to a pair of actors about their cues when Loki returned. He walked in the theatre with barely a sound and sunk into one of the plush velvet seats at the back, staying very much out of the way. The actors she was talking to, a woman named Claire and a man named Greg, both noticed him come in, however, and were instantly distracted, not listening to Michelle at all.

"Who is _that_?" Claire gasped, unabashedly ogling Loki.

"Whoever he is, he's delicious," Greg replied.

"Who are you talking about?" Michelle asked in confusion. Claire pointed to the back of the auditorium, and Michelle looked, feeling a sense of relief when she saw Loki there. When he saw her looking at him, he smirked and gave her a small wave. In spite of herself, she chuckled and waved back before returning to her work. The actors gawked at her for a long time until Michelle eventually got uncomfortable and said, "What?"

"You _know_ him?" Greg asked.

"He's my roommate," Michelle replied simply.

Claire made a strange sighing noise that reminded Michelle of a damsel in distress. "You _live_ with him?"

"That's generally what roommate means, yeah," she answered with a laugh. "Anyway, Derek wants this cue changed up a little bit; you two need to be out on stage and in position by the time Andrew says-"

"Are you sleeping with him?" Greg suddenly demanded.

Michelle threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Why does everyone automatically ask me that?"

"Michelle, honey, you've been single the whole time we've known you," Claire said, patting Michelle's arm gently.

"That's not true," she said defensively. "I went on a few dates with that… what's his name, the clingy guy?"

"Jordan?" Greg said. "Two dates doesn't count as a relationship."

"I'm in a relationship," Michelle said, going back to her notes. "Dylan and I are practically married."

"And don't you forget it," Dylan said, approaching her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. Then he gestured back to Loki. "I was talking to your 'roommate'."

"What?" Michelle asked in alarm. "What did you say? What did _he_ say?"

"He's very friendly," Dylan answered, almost surprised. "And he wants to ask you something. I may or may not have suggested a shopping trip."

"Why?"

"Look at him!" he answered a little too loudly, gesturing vigorously to Loki again. Michelle shushed him and made him lower his arms, glancing back at her roommate. Loki was sitting comfortably in the chair watching them, hands clasped in his lap with a smirk on his lips. Michelle turned back to Dylan, gesturing for him to be quieter. "He's wearing your brother's clothes; he needs his own wardrobe."

"Fine," Michelle said snappishly, hanging Dylan her clipboard. "I'll talk to him, and _you_ can go over cues with Claire and Greg."

She whipped around to march up the stairs to the back of the theatre. Claire, Greg and Dylan all watched her go, and once he was sure she was far enough out of ear shot, Dylan leaned into them and asked, "How long do you think it'll be before she sleeps with him?"

"If she's smart, _tonight_," Greg said. "Good lord, I would climb that beautiful specimen like a tree."

"Hmm," Claire said thoughtfully. "I bet you they'll end up dating in a few months."

"Michelle doesn't ever fall for anyone," Greg said. He nudged Claire in the arm. "You remember, we tried to set her up with Jordan, and then Michael..."

"To be fair, those were all guys _you_ picked because you thought they were attractive," she replied, poking Greg in the chest. "Michelle's independent; she needs someone who can give her space and who has things in common with her."

"Fine, then I bet a year," Greg said, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and handing Dylan and twenty.

Dylan chuckled. "You actually want to start a betting pool?"

"Yes," Claire said, handing over a ten. Dylan took both bills with a shrug and a laugh.

"Okay," he said, stuffing the money in his pocket.

Meanwhile, Michelle had reached Loki. He was still sitting comfortably, a playful smile still on his face. She stopped a few feet away from him and observed him with her hands on her hips for a moment. When he just continued to sit there, smirking, she narrowed her eyes and gave him a sideways look.

"Why do I get the feeling you know something I don't?" She asked.

"Just your imagination," Loki assured her, shifting in his seat slightly.

"Dylan said you wanted to ask me something."

"Your friend with the hat?" he asked, nodding his head over to Dylan who was now in deep conversation with Claire and Greg. When Michelle nodded, Loki smiled again and said, "Yes. He suggested that we go 'shopping'?"

"And you want to go?" Michelle asked.

"Well, I can't very well wear your brother's clothes for the rest of my time here, can I?"

Michelle floundered for words for a moment, tilting her head from side to side slightly before saying, "I guess…"

"Excellent," Loki said. "Dylan will be taking us this afternoon as soon as you're finished up here. Now that I'm on the 'payroll', as he said, we need to go as soon as possible."

"Sure thing. I guess we can take a cab, and – whoa, wait, what?" she asked, just catching on to what he'd said. "Payroll?"

Loki just extended his arms out at his sides slightly, as if to say, 'surprise!' "I am now the man in charge of getting coffee."

Michelle exhaled deeply as she turned to go back down to the stage. "Well… this has been an interesting day…"

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'm SO sorry for the delayed chapter; I had a hard time getting this one out. Can't say it's my favorite so far... I decided things needed to happen a little sooner than I anticipated because it was getting a little stale, so… here we are.

Also, my BETA was busy having a life and stuff. How dare that guy.

Things will pick up more soon. Eternal thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter Four: The New Routine

**Author's Note:** Okay. So. Basically take Tom Hiddleston and his amazing, awesome everyday wardrobe, and give him Loki hair. Those are Loki's new clothes.

You're welcome, fangirls.

* * *

_**Changed**_

* * *

_Chapter Four: The New Routine_

* * *

As promised, Dylan dutifully rounded up Michelle and Loki and ushered them out of the theatre as soon as the rehearsal ended. With the three of them now crammed in the back of a taxi, Michelle in the middle because she was the smallest, they were heading off to 5th Avenue for shopping. She wasn't exactly sure how it would go, and to be honest, she was nervous; Dylan and Loki, shopping together. For some reason, that bode ill to her. She just hoped it went smoothly.

"Are you sure you're qualified for this?" she asked Dylan.

"For shopping? Why wouldn't I be?" He asked.

"Sometimes your taste in fashion is… questionable…."

"Excuse you," Dylan feigned insult. "I happen to have an amazing sense of fashion."

"You've worn green skinny jeans with an orange t-shirt," Michelle deadpanned, trying to make a point.

"Those jeans were amazing, okay? Don't even."

Loki was mildly amused by their antics. They acted like an old married couple, bickering and carrying on. He, Thor and the Warrior's Three would do the same, all the time. Purely in jest, of course. For a brief moment, he wondered idly what they were all doing at that moment. Then he remember the look of contempt Sif had given him when he first returned to Asgard, and he steeled himself, forcing the memory and the thoughts of his friends and brother out of his mind. Pulling himself from his thoughts, he went back to listening to Dylan and Michelle, who were still bickering.

"Trust me, when I'm done, he'll look amazing," Dylan was saying.

"Who's paying for this, anyway?" Michelle suddenly asked.

Dylan raised a brow and gave her a knowing smirk. "I made some phone calls. Broadway's an expensive past time, love; especially during times like these. Give the store clerks cheap show tickets, and in return, I get their employee discount."

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Nah, it's called being thrifty." Dylan said. Then he tapped on the glass separating them from the driver and said, "Here's good!"

Loki and Michelle slipped out of the car as Dylan paid the driver, and as soon as he was out of the car, he grabbed them both by the arm and steered them into a rather expensive looking store that sold men's clothing, such as blazers, dress pants, suits and a few designer items. Michelle paled slightly.

"Wait, wait… _here_?" She asked.

"Why not?" Dylan replied. Then he turned to Loki. "Unless you'd rather go somewhere else."

"No, I like this," Loki said with a smile, heading into the store. Michelle sighed as Dylan dragged her inside.

"Come on," He coaxed. "The more you cooperate with me, the easier you'll make this on yourself."

"I hate shopping," Michelle huffed.

"We're not even shopping for you and already you're losing your mind," Dylan sighed with a shake of his head.

Inside, Loki was already inspecting things, searching through the racks, running his fingers over the material of the jackets. Dylan marched right over to him, and she stood back and watched as they discussed things and Dylan pulled articles of clothing from their hangers and holding them up to Loki's body. One of the girls who worked there, who Dylan was obviously friends with, came over and started pulling out suggestions, as well. She looked like a model, tall and slender with ashy blonde hair styled in loose curls. Soon enough, they had a whole collection of clothes for Loki to try, and both the store clerk (named Victoria) and Dylan ushered him to the dressing rooms. Michelle followed along behind, and sat with them as they waited for him to try things on.

She had to admit, the clothes that Loki came out wearing suited him _very_ well. He first tried on a more casual outfit, consisting of a pair of fitted dark wash jeans, and a simple gray t-shirt with a simple leather jacket on top. Though he seemed unsure at first, the unanimous agreement caused him to stand a little straighter. He tried on lighter jeans and a series of casual t-shirts that he'd be able to dress up a little with the leather jacket (that seemed to grow on him more and more, Michelle noticed) as well as some button-up shirts, all of varying colors. He liked neutral colors, blacks, grays, dark blues, navy, and whites, but any color he did go for always seemed to be green. Michelle liked him in green; it brought out the color of his eyes, which were undoubtedly beautiful. When she mentioned this, Dylan and Victoria were very quick to agree but they still convinced him to go for some dark red shirts, as well.

The shopping trip was certainly interesting. Not because it was going awry in any way, but because of how much _fun_ Loki seemed to be having. He was smiling and laughing in a way Michelle had never seen before. He'd been so serious in the beginning, dark and cold, and even when it was just the two of them, Loki was rather distant with her. She hadn't realized how much he'd changed during the past month; he seemed more alive now, relaxed. Perhaps doing this odd job for the theatre _would_ be good for him, she thought. He clearly needed to interact with people, to get outside and _live_. At least this way he was learning he wasn't above anybody.

His last outfit of their shopping excursion was a suit with a longer trench jacket, something he seemed adamant about. Michelle thought back to the leather and metal costume he wore when she first found him, and she supposed that made sense; he'd been wearing a trench coat then, too. Dylan did manage to convince him to try on a shorter jacket, however, and he agreed.

"Though I don't think it will look as good," he said.

"I think you'd look good in anything," Victoria answered as she tied his tie for him, giving him a sultry smile. He gave a small chuckle in reply, but it was in a much more innocent way. Dylan, meanwhile, was scrutinizing Loki's outfit, sizing him up.

"There's something missing here," he said, gesturing to all of Loki. "This just seems too plain."

"I think it's fine," Victoria said, tightening his lie and smoothing out the collar of the white dress shirt. She helped him put on the longer jacket, and stood back to look at him. "Very handsome."

Loki glanced away from his 'stylists' to see what Michelle thought of this, but she wasn't looking at him. He wondered subtly why he sought her opinion; she clearly wasn't very interested in this shopping business. She glanced around the store looking for something, and she clearly saw just the thing and got up to go get it. As Dylan and Victoria debated back and fourth about what was wrong, Michelle hurried back with a green scarf in her hands. She approached Loki and draped it around his neck, adjusting it so that it was sitting symmetrically. Loki watched her as she worked, wondering why she chose the scarf; this was reminiscent of the suit he wore when he had infiltrated that art museum with Barton and tried to subjugate the citizens there. He frowned slightly.

There it was. That strange, small feeling of guilt again.

He pushed it out of his mind as Michelle stood close to him, still adjusting the scarf, and he forced himself to stay focused on the present.

"How's this?" Michelle asked Dylan and Victoria, stepping away from Loki so they could see.

The pair simply stared for nearly a full minute before Dylan grinned and said, "Yeah, that'll work. What do you think, Loki?"

"I think it's very suitable," he answered. He suddenly just wanted to go home.

Victoria grinned and gently squeezed Dylan's arm before entering Loki's dressing room. "I'll help you take your things to the counter."

"Don't forget the clothes you came in," Michelle reminded Loki. "I need to give those back to my scatterbrained brother."

Loki chuckled as he waited for Dylan and Victoria to clear out with their arms full of clothes. "Of course."

As they left Loki and Michelle alone, taking the clothes to the counter, he plucked at the green scarf around his neck, the silky emerald threads almost like water under his fingers. He finally looked at Michelle, who was busy checking her cell phone, and asked, "Why green?"

"Hmm?" She looked to see what he meant. He tugged gently on the scarf for emphasis. Michelle gave him a small smile and said simply, "Green suits you."

Then she gestured to the change room. "Now get in there; we need to go home and organize your closet."

Loki was back to wearing her brother's clothes, and she only noticed now how big they hung on him after seeing him in clothes that fit. She hated to admit it, but Dylan was right; shopping had definitely been necessary. The total cost was _way_ less than Michelle had anticipated, for which she was grateful. Victoria had given them her employee discount, as Dylan had said she would, and had also found some loopholes on sales and promotions that lowered the cost even more. Dylan ended up paying for half, and Michelle was about to protest, but he'd already swiped his card before she could stop him.

"This was my idea, I'm taking responsibility for some of the damage," he said.

With their arms loaded with bags, Michelle and Loki thanked the pair as they left the store, and she managed to flag down a cab to take them home.

It was a struggle getting all of the bags out of the cab, but with enough pulling and perseverance, they managed to carry everything, and the odd couple made their way into the building and to the elevator. Michelle managed to bump the elevator button with her elbow, adjusting the bags in her hands as she did so, and she sighed gratefully when the doors opened. That same old woman was in the elevator again, and she gave Michelle a smile before glancing at Loki who was busy adjusting the grip on his own bags.

"Could you push number five for us, please?" Michelle asked the old lady.

"Of course, dear," she said kindly, reaching over to push the button. Then she observed their bags. "You've had quite the shopping spree."

"Oh, yeah," Michelle said with a hollow laugh as the doors closed and the elevator started its ascent. "It's definitely been a big day."

The old woman then leaned in closer to Michelle and muttered not all that quietly, "Glad to see your cousin isn't wearing that funny costume of his anymore."

Michelle was confused for a moment, but then remembered the story she'd told her when she first brought Loki home. She just smiled and nodded, thought slightly embarrassed that Loki had heard. She glanced at him, but he just stood straight, staring ahead, all quiet and brooding. She frowned at him slightly. He was certainly a whole plethora of emotions.

The doors finally opened, and Michelle bid the old woman goodbye as she and Loki stepped out of the elevator. Making their way down the hall, she gratefully dropped a handful of bags on the ground as she sifted through her purse for her keys.

"I take it you know that woman?" Loki asked as she put the key in the lock.

"Nope," Michelle answered, the lock opening with a satisfying click. "She saw me carrying you into the building when I found you."

"You mean when I saved you from your attackers," he corrected.

"You fell out of the sky and just _happened_ to land on one of them," she shot back, opening the door. "I could have handled myself."

"From what I recall, they had you pinned against the wall."

"How do you know? You were barely conscious."

"Semantics," Loki said, holding the door open for her as she hauled his bags inside. She didn't even bother to kick off her shoes just yet as she dragged them down the hall, tossing them into his room. He took his own time in removing the borrowed sneakers from his feet as Michelle disappeared further into his bedroom and opened up the closet. As he approached, he heard her curse under her breath. She'd been doing that a lot today, he observed with a smirk.

"Christ," she hissed, beginning to pull things out of the closet. "He left so much crap in here."

"Your brother?" Loki clarified, setting his bags next to the pile she's brought in.

"Yes," she answered, pulling a few sweaters from their hook hangers and tossing them onto the bed. "This is his, this is his, that's his, these are his… oh… this is Dad's… but Mark's the one who brought it…"

"Where _is_ your brother?" he asked as she pulled a few shirts and a pair of jeans out of the closet, dumping them unceremoniously on the floor.

"Probably at home with Mom and Dad," Michelle answered, pulling more things from the closet.

"And where are they?"

"I told you, Sydney."

"Where exactly is Sydney?"

"Sydney," she started, grunting with effort as she wrapped her arms around everything else in the closet and hauled them out "Is in Canada, the country north of this one. Along the east coat, there's a province called Nova Scotia, and off the north coast of that is an island called Cape Breton; that's where my family lives, in a city called Sydney, and that's what I'm from."

She stood up straight, slightly out of breath from hauling the bags upstairs and now pulling everything from the closet. She put her hands on her hips, shaking her head at the pile of clothes her brother had left for her before she kicked when she's dumped on the floor out of the way.

"Here, bring those bags over," she said, gesturing for Loki to come near. "We'll start putting your things away."

"Why did you leave Sydney?" Loki asked as he brought her some bags.

"A change of pace?" Michelle answered, pulling things out of the bags to put on hangers. "I don't know; I just… needed something different. I always go back and visit, though. Why the sudden interest in my origins?"

Loki looked surprised for a moment, unaware that he'd actually been asking her about her life. He quickly changed his expression to a blank face, though, and shrugged. "I was merely curious."

"It's fine if you ask questions, you know," she said as she bent down to fish another dress shirt out of the bag. "It's just strange; you never seemed interested before."

"I may as well know who I'm staying with, shouldn't I?" Loki answered. "Isn't that the proper human thing to do?"

Michelle wasn't sure if she should be offended or not. Was Loki only asking because he thought it was expected? To be fair, she didn't really see why he would care very much, but she'd hoped he'd kind of settled down a bit and wanted to get to know her. She shrugged it off, though, and hung up another shirt.

"You seem very close to that Dylan," Loki continued.

"Yeah," Michelle chuckled softly. "He's my closest friend; the first person I met when I moved here."

"He seems to like 'shopping',"

"You did, too," she pointed out with a raised brow.

Loki shrugged again. "I was humoring him. It ended up becoming very entertaining, especially with how you were behaving."

Michelle dropped the jacket she was putting on the hanger, suddenly looked furious. "What does that mean? You _didn't_ want to go shopping?"

"Not at first," he answered. Then he smirked. "Until Dylan said you didn't like it, then I was curious to see how you'd react. It was very interesting, actually; I was under the impression that most human women enjoyed the frivolous act of shopping."

"Ugh," she scoffed, dropping his clothes and bringing a hand up to her eyes. Loki frowned.

"Have I done something to upset you?" he asked.

"Yes, you have," she answered, lifting her head to give him a dirty look. "I'm not an experiment, Loki; you can't just… see how I'd react."

"Why not?"

"Because we're people," she replied. "We're not lab rats; we're all diverse and different, no two of us the same. Just because most women enjoy shopping doesn't mean every single woman in the world enjoys it."

"It was just a bit of fun," Loki replied, slightly confused by her reaction. "I didn't intend to cause offence at all. In the end, it turned out to be rather enjoyable, and I got everything I needed to start work."

"Oh god," Michelle said, rubbing her temples. "I almost forgot… you're working now. This is going to take some getting used to…"

She bent down and set to work hanging up clothes again. "I'll have to give you a rundown on what to do…"

* * *

They finally finished putting all of Loki's new clothes away (she eventually got him to help her) and Michelle was now putting leftovers in the microwave to heat up. While Michelle was heating up stir fry, she was quizzing Loki on the process of getting coffee for the cast and crew, much to his annoyance. When she initially started, he gave her a bored look and said, "I'm actually considered quite intelligent, you know; I think I can do something simple like fetch coffee."

"Humor me," Michelle shot back before she dropped the container of leftover stir fry in the sink. "Besides, some people can get picky. Now, where do we get the coffee?"

"Joe's, across the street from the theatre," Loki answered dully.

"How do we get the coffee?"

"Say it's for Derek Davenport's cast and crew,"

"Good. What do we do when we get the coffee?"

"They'll bring it in cups with everything else people will need, I'm in charge of setting it out for the cast and crew and they come and make their own,"

"Except for…?"

"Juliana, the lead actress and Derek," Loki replied.

"And sometimes Eileen, when she's there," Michelle reminded, setting his warmed up plate of stir fry in front of him. "How does Juliana like her coffee?"

"She requires skim milk with artificial sweetener," he answered, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Ugh, just saying it sounds unappetizing…"

"And Derek?" she pressed, wanting to stay on track.

"Black," Loki said. Then he added, mimicking Michelle's earlier words, "Like his soul."

"Exactly," Michelle answered with a smile, taking a seat at the table with him and leaning back in her chair. "Now I feel better about this."

"I'm not incompetent, I hope you realize," he told her, clearly annoyed. "I've mastered books beyond books of complex and intricate magical spells, and I've fought more battles than your entire race has seen throughout your entire existence. I think I can understand the basic concept of getting coffee for actors."

"I know," she sighed, feeling bad that she was being so anal about it. "But… I dunno, the theatre is a funny place… things have a very specific process, especially Derek, and the last thing any of us need is hell at work because his coffee wasn't right. It may not seem like it, but you really have the most important job; coffee makes people happy, and happy people tend to work better."

"Why _do_ humans feel the need to drink copious amounts of coffee?" Loki asked suddenly. "I've tried some, and personally, I think it's less than satisfying."

"Oh, I know," Michelle answered with a sigh, finally digging into her food. "I'm not a fan of it, either, but people love it…"

"What do you like, then, if not coffee?" he questioned. "Yesterday while you worked, I saw you drinking something that looked similar."

"Oh, that was tea." She said simply.

"Tea?"

"Yeah, it's not quite as strong as coffee, and much sweeter. At least, I think so; some people find tea to be bitter, but I love it."

"Who gets the tea for you if everyone else is drinking coffee?"

"If Dylan has a free moment, he'll get us tea," Michelle explained, taking a bite of her food. "He doesn't drink coffee, either. You don't have to worry about getting it for us, though; just focus on everyone else."

"Very well," Loki said.

"Oh, and one more thing," she added. "Don't… try not to talk back to anyone. As far any anyone is concerned, you're just a regular guy; no talk of gods or Asgard or magic or anything, okay? And if anyone asks where you're from, just say London, they'll believe you."

"So you want me to lie to them," Loki stated.

"Well… yes," she answered.

"It's a good thing I'm a talented liar, then," he answered simply, scooping a forkful of rice into his mouth. Michelle was watching him warily, suddenly starting to feel nervous again.

"Why do I feel like this is going to go horribly wrong?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"You worry too much," he told her simply, but his eyes sparkled with mirth in a way that made Michelle feel very uneasy.

* * *

To say that Michelle was stressed the next few days was an understatement. Her nerves were fried and she was constantly worried that Loki would try something, to pull the whole god act again, or seriously disrupt the rehearsals. Derek had already snapped at Michelle about Loki's looks, for a lot of the female (and some of the male) cast were very distracted whenever he was in the room, which caused rehearsals to slow. If her boss was going to get angry with her for something as tiny as that, she was terrified to see what he'd yell at her for if Loki severely screwed up. Fortunately, though, that hadn't happened. Yet. Loki was surprisingly good at his job; he learned quickly, which she was thankful for, and he was civil if not polite to everyone, but that still didn't lessen her anxiety. If she was being perfectly frank, Michelle didn't trust Loki one bit, and whenever she saw him, he'd always give her a friendly smile that made her think he was up to something. Needless to say, she was usually fairly cranky whenever their day at the theatre would end.

Despite Michelle's foul mood at home, however, Loki seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. He liked being out of the house, talking with people, being stimulated; this whole experience was a learning curve for him, and if there was one thing Loki loved, it was learning. He quite liked his job, too; there was enough free time between coffee runs that allowed him to sit and just observe, which he was very content to do. Not only because it was interesting, but because Michelle seemed to be increasingly distracted and worried, which he found very entertaining. Whenever she'd make eye contact with him, he'd simply give her a friendly smile, and he could visibly see her tense even more as she wondered just what on earth he was up to. That was the amusing part was, Loki wasn't up to anything; he knew that causing trouble would be less than wise, but allowing Michelle to think that he was up to no good was just a bit of fun.

One rehearsal had her behaving particularly sour. She purposely avoided him all day the minute they arrived at the theatre, which he found very amusing, and the few times that she glanced his way, he just gave her that same smile. Eventually, around lunch, she cornered him on his way back from the bathroom, her arms crossed over her chest and her blue eyes fierce.

"What are you up to?" she demanded.

Loki feigned innocence. "I'm going to have lunch."

"You're planning something."

"What ever do you mean?"

"Stop with the bullshit," Michelle snapped, pointing a finger at him. "You've done nothing for the past week except give me sly little smiles that just scream, 'guess what, Michelle, I'm about the screw shit up!' I want it to stop."

"I'm not planning anything," Loki said, placing a hand on his chest honestly. "I swear it."

The corner of his mouth twitched as he tried not to smirk, and she bristled, squaring her shoulders. "You'd better tell me what it is you've got planned _right_ now, or _so help me god_, I will-"

She stopped talking as it dawned on her. Loki was still smiling that shit-eating grin of his and Michelle's face began to go red with anger and embarrassment as she realized what just happened. She closed her mouth and gave him the direst look she could muster. Loki just started to laugh.

"You're just screwing with me, aren't you?"

"If you mean that I tricked you into believing I had something planned, then yes," Loki said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Then he chuckled again and added, "It was very amusing to see you get so upset."

"Why would you do that?" Michelle snapped, clearly not finding this very funny at all.

"Just a bit of fun," he grinned. "No harm done, right?"

"You mean aside from the permanent damage you've done to my nerves?" she huffed before putting a hand to her head. "Just… go eat, lunch will be over soon."

"Very well," Loki answered, walking confidently back towards the theatre.

"Loki, I swear, if you do this again…" Michelle suddenly called to him. He turned to look at her and gave her an innocent smile and shrugged.

"How will you know?" he asked before he disappeared into the theatre. "I'm a very good liar; you believed me quite easily, didn't you?"

Michelle was mildly cranky for the remainder of the next week. She didn't believe herself to be an uptight person, but she _did_ believe that there was a time and place for things, and work was neither the time nor the place. Loki didn't think he'd done anything wrong – just a bit of harmless fun – and the look on her face when she realized what he'd done was priceless. He didn't realize just how angry she was until they got home that evening, however, and she refused to heat his dinner up for him. He was left staring at the microwave for a few moments, trying to understand such a strange human contraption before he was forced to go out into the living room (where she was sitting angrily on the couch watching a rather violent television show that depicted people getting their heads chopped off) and apologize. He figured that angering the person who basically took care of him was not the best plan and decided not to continue doing it, even if he was disappointed by how dull it was. At least in Asgard, Odin had eventually forgiven him for his pranks. After his apology, the two fell back into their old, uneasy truce again, though Michelle certainly trusted him much less than she had initially. She knew now that Loki wasn't as helpless as he originally seemed and constantly kept on her toes for the following week just in case he decided to pull some kind of silly prank at home.

God help him if he did. She also taught him how to use the kitchen utensils, such as the microwave and stove; if he were going to be living with her, he'd be sharing cooking duty.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry this took so long to get out. No excuses, I just didn't write everyday like I normally do. That's all! I _do_, however, have the next few chapters (up to 8, I believe) mapped, for the most part. Some bits are even fully written; they just wait editing from my lovely BETA.

Also, I know coffee isn't fetched this way. I'm doing this funny thing called creative license to serve the story. And I just really needed an excuse for Loki to be at the theatre on a daily basis to get in Michelle's hair.


	6. Chapter Five: A Startling Reveal

**_Changed_**

* * *

_Chapter Five: A Startling Reveal  
_

* * *

The next week or so included a whirlwind of changes. With Loki slowly integrating into society (**'**slowly**'** meaning he hadn't gone anywhere but the theatre) and with his new found independence (sort of), Michelle decided it was time for him to have his own set of keys to the apartment, just on the off chance that she ended up working later than he did. When she presented him with the keys, he was surprised, confused by the action, and he simply looked at her quizzically as he waited for her to explain.

"For you," she told him. "It's your own key to the apartment. Don't lose it, keep it safe."

"Thank you," Loki said, slipping the keys into his pocket. He was actually quite grateful.

Loki's new presence at the theatre soon became the norm, to the point where it seemed like he'd been there all along. The cast really liked him, and he was polite to them in return. Michelle even assumed that he liked _them_ in return, an implication she found slightly strange, given the fact that he believed he was a god. She wasn't even sure if he liked _her_, and they lived together. He probably tolerated her, at best. Still, she was glad that he was behaving himself publicly and was happy to report that he hadn't pulled the god act on anyone. She began to relax, especially since Loki didn't make her feel like he had something up his sleeve anymore.

"He's doing pretty good," Dylan said as he took a seat next to Michelle one lunch break. She glanced back at Loki who was talking to some of the actors in a casual manner.

"He is," she agreed, taking a bite of her sandwich.

"Was he happy about his own apartment key?"

Michelle swallowed her mouthful of food before answering. "He was confused about it at first, but he seemed pretty grateful. Now I feel like I need to get him ID's and paperwork, as well… especially a passport. I'm still going home for my vacation at the end of August, and I can't exactly leave him behind…"

"You're taking him to meet your family?" Dylan asked, raising a brow.

"Yes," she answered, frowning. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"Nope," Dylan said quickly, shifting himself in his seat as he made a mental note to mention this to those in on the betting pool. "No, that's great, really awesome."

Michelle gave him a skeptical look before continuing on with what she was saying. "I just don't know how I'm going to get him a passport when he doesn't have any paperwork at all."

"Leave that to me," Dylan said, adjusting the collar of his shirt. "I'll get him paperwork for you."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "How?"

"I have friends," he said with a smile. "How old would you say Loki is, about 27, 28?"

"About, yeah," Michelle answered, still looking at Dylan dubiously. After a beat, she asked, "Are you a spy or something?"

"Yes," Dylan answered, deadpan. "I'm undercover, sent here to watch over you and Loki."

They stared at each other for a few moments before Michelle started to smirk. Then she let out a laugh and turned away.

"Okay, Mr. Spy," she said. "If you can get Loki's papers for me, I will be eternally grateful."

Dylan chuckled. "Done and done; I'll see if I can get those two you next week."

"We're not doing anything illegal, are we?" Michelle suddenly asked.

"Nah; there are lots of people who don't have valid birth certificates that need paperwork," Dylan said.

"Attention everyone!" Greg shouted from the back of the theatre where all the actors and Loki were congregated. "Today is a very special day! Our own Miss Juliana Wood is celebrating a birthday today! Let's give her a hand!"

The entire cast cheered as someone handed Loki a cake with a few lit candles on it. Someone must have explained to him the premise of birthday cakes, because he held it out to Juliana who was laughing and smiling modestly (though they all knew it was just an act). She blew out the candles gracefully while everyone applauded and cheered. With a slender finger, she scooped up a small bit of icing and dabbed a bit on the end of Loki's nose before she seductively licked the rest of it away, gaving him a sultry stare. Loki simply chuckled and wiped the frosting from his nose before handing her the cake. Michelle and Dylan watched from their seats in the theatre and she made a retching noise.

"Ugh, that's disgusting," she said. "Did you see that?"

"I kind of threw up in my mouth a little bit," Dylan admitted.

"She's been making sex eyes at him for days," Michelle turned away from the scene, not wanting to watch anymore.

"Her and a majority of the single female cast," he replied. "And Greg."

"And Greg," she agreed with a laugh.

At that moment, Loki came up with two paper plates of cake, one in each hand. He handed them off to Dylan and Michelle, saying, "Greg said to give these to our hard working stage managers, so, here you are."

"Thanks," Dylan said, taking his happily, but Michelle politely shook her head and held up a hand.

"No, thanks, I'm fine," she said. "You go ahead."

Loki frowned slightly. He assumed all humans liked sweets. "Are you sure?"

"Mhmm," Michelle said with a smile. "Go on; I don't need it."

"Very well," he answered, returning to the back of the auditorium. Dylan was busy gawking at Michelle as if she had three heads.

"I can't believe you didn't want cake," he said.

She laughed and just shrugged before checking her watch and calling everyone back to rehearsal.

* * *

There seemed to be a lot of birthdays over the next few days. There was a double-birthday for two of the actors who shared a day, one for Dylan, even one for Derek. Every single birthday had cake, and every single birthday Michelle would deny cake. Loki found this very strange; almost everyone else in the cast all enjoyed cake very much. There'd be days when some people didn't feel like eating any, or days when someone couldn't eat any due to an allergy, or they didn't like the flavor, but Michelle was consistent. She was always the odd one out, the only person who refused every time. He didn't think humans enjoyed being left out of things such as this. Weren't birthdays supposed to be a time for celebration and fun, an opportunity to share things like cakes? Some of the other cast members told him to stop asking her; apparently she'd always been like this, always denying sweets.

"Some people just don't like it," Claire explained to Loki as she helped him serve out slices of cake for chorus member Darren's birthday. "Michelle's just one of those people; we all thought it was weird at first, too, but after she kept saying no every single time, we all figured she was perfectly fine with being left out. It doesn't bother her in the slightest."

And it really didn't. Michelle would hang around while everyone else was eating, or sometimes she'd be running around backstage, ensuring that props were in order and in the proper place. While she was doing this during one particular lunch hour, Derek came up to her, looking very business like.

"Michelle," he said. "Listen, Stephanie needs to take the night off and Dylan's already covering for John, so you'll need to manage the show tonight."

"I… what?" Michelle asked. "I… no, no, I can't do the late shows – Loki-"

"You can cover for one night," Derek said. "You do a lot, I realize that, and we've done our best to make sure that you never have to do any of the evening shows, but this is desperate. The show starts at eight, so I'll see you back stage, here, at six thirty."

And before she could say another word, he'd walked off. Michelle clapped her hand to her forehead, giving a loud groan. Well, this was a fantastic turn of events**.**

While she was out back finishing up her work, Loki was in the process of organizing the mess left over from lunch as the actors mulled about and talked, as they always did. Dylan was helping him clean, which he was very grateful for. As he busied himself, Juliana came up to him, leaning against the table. He offered her a small smile, but kept focus on his work.

"So," she said in her low, sultry voice. It was in great contrast to her singing voice; Michelle had told him that she was considered a 'soprano', her voice able to reach impossibly high notes. "You're from London, are you?"

"Yes," Loki lied convincingly, not missing a beat.

"What brought you all the way to New York?" Juliana asked, subtly pushing out her rather exaggerated bust.

"I don't know, a… change of pace?" Loki said, repeating what Michelle had told him when he'd asked why she left Sydney. "Something different.

"Well," Juliana cooed, and he looked up, realizing she was very close to him. "I'm glad you're here. Maybe we can get together and… talk about it sometime."

"Thank you. I'm afraid it's rather boring to talk about, though," he answered before sidestepping around her to drop a few coffee cups in the garbage bin nearby.

Dylan had been watching this whole exchange with a rather disgusted look on his face. He sort of stared at Juliana in disbelief. She'd never been his favorite person, but that whole scenario had just been revolting. The sex eyes she kept making at Loki had been obvious enough, but that had just been… gross. Some movement on the stage caught his attention, and he looked to see Michelle emerging from backstage. She meandered out into the theatre rather dejectedly, and Dylan honed in on it at once. Of course, he assumed her dejection was for a different reason all together.

"Hey," he said as he trotted down the theatre steps towards the stage to meet you. "Everything okay?"

"No," Michelle grumbled. "This sucks…"

"I know," Dylan offered sympathetically. "If it makes you feel any better, he doesn't seem very interested in her, so there's still hope."

"What?" she said, raising a brow in confusion. "Dylan, I was talking about having to manage a show tonight."

He looked at her in surprise for a moment before he quickly composed himself. "Right, of course, just making sure you were paying attention. Anyway, why are you managing a show tonight? You never manage evening shows."

"Stephanie took the night off," Mishelle sighed.

"And I'm covering for John," Dylan finished. "Right… man, that sucks. At least we'll be managing together, though."

"Yeah, but late shows screw up my whole sleeping schedule," she huffed. "I wish I were like you; you can adapt easily."

"Not all of us can be amazing," he agreed, and Michelle swatted him in the arm as she passed to approach the cast, calling for rehearsal to start again.

* * *

At the end of rehearsal, just as everyone was packing up their things to leave for dinner before the show that night, Michelle went up to Loki, who was just pulling on his jacket. She was a little nervous about leaving him home alone… she knew she didn't have any reason to be – he was a grown man, he could take care of himself – but this was the first time she wouldn't be home with him at night. Then she mentally slapped herself.

"Good lord, Michelle, get a hold of yourself," she scolded herself. "You're starting to act like your mother."

Loki noticed her approaching and gave her a small wave. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Actually, I'm staying," Michelle said, wringing her hands absently. "I need to finish organizing things here before the show, and I'm managing back stage tonight, so I won't be home until late."

"I see," Loki answered slowly.

"There's plenty of left overs in the fridge," she quickly explained. "And you know how to work the microwave now. You also have your key, so you can get in alright… is that everything?"

"Shall I wait for you to come home, then?" he asked.

Michelle offered him a smile, but shook her head. "No, don't wait up; you can sleep if you're tired."

"Very well," Loki said. "In that case, have a good show; I'll see you in the morning if I'm not awake when you return."

"Yeah," Michelle answered. "Goodnight."

The next few hours dragged. Michelle and Dylan went out to grab some food after they put all the props back in their respective places for that night's show. At six thirty, they returned to the theatre to make sure that there was nothing left in the auditorium during rehearsal that afternoon, and what things they did find that belonged to cast members were returned to dressing rooms just as actors and chorus members began to show up. Michelle went to go check on Juliana, who was busy doing vocal scales to warm up her voice, and ended up having to go get her herbal tea and a few water bottles, which she was very annoyed about. While Dylan checked on the chorus, she left Juliana and went off to see Andrew, who was always a really nice guy. He was already in most of his costume, his hair and make-up finished, just sitting on the couch in his dressing room on his cell phone. He gave Michelle a friendly hug and thanked her for managing an evening show for once; it was common knowledge that it wasn't something she did, but everyone seemed really grateful.

"You're like… the head stage manager for rehearsals," Andrew was saying. "You're here all the time during the day… now you're covering for the night. Thanks a lot."

"Well, I didn't exactly have much of a choice," Michelle said, adjusting her headset and microphone. "But thanks; I need to run, but break a leg, okay?"

"Yeah," Andrew said, giving her another farewell hug. "Have a good show."

She and Dylan were in charge of the half an hour call time. The fifteen minute call time. The ten and five minute call times. There was a bit of confusion as one of the chorus girls had trouble with her costume, and Dylan quickly saved the day by tying part of her skirt back together before she made it on stage just in time for her opening cue. Michelle handed props off to actors, took the ones that weren't being used again, helped actors zip of dressed or slip into a jacked (she had to try and do up a zipper around Juliana's enormous chest; she _seriously_ needed to get smaller implants). She occasionally joked over the mics with Dylan, who was on the other side of the stage. She alerted the stagehands when it was time to change the scene. By intermission, she was starting to get drowsy and she knew she needed a quick energy boost.

"There's some cake left over," Claire suggested as Michelle helped fix the top of her dress. "It's in the chorus dressing room; I can go grab it for you."

"That'd be incredible, thank you," Michelle said gratefully, and Claire dashed off to get her a piece as she stepped in together Angela with the buttons on the back of her next costume.

The fifteen minute intermission was over, and they were on to the next act of the show. As soon as the actors were out on stage, Michelle took a second to sit down, feeling tired and worn. Dylan, with his headset on, microphone pushed away from his face, handed her the piece of cake Claire had fetched for her earlier.

"This should boost your energy a bit," he said.

Michelle took the cake gratefully with a smile. "Thanks. I'm not used to being up this late, it's messing with me…"

"We're almost done," Dylan patted her shoulder. "About an hour left, and then we have to put the props from the last scene away, and we're good."

"Thank god," she answered with a sigh, slipping a forkful of cake into her mouth.

* * *

Two hours later, almost 1:30 am, Michelle finally dragged herself into her apartment. The lights were off when she arrived, and Loki's bedroom door was closed; she assumed he must have been sleeping.

Sleep. Man, that sounded nice.

She kicked off her shoes, not even bothering to straighten them out, and she sluggishly tromped off to her bedroom, yawning widely. Dropping her purse at the end of her bed, she stripped out of her clothes to pull on her pajamas before falling onto her mattress, falling to sleep instantly.

What felt like moments later, Michelle woke with a start in a state of confusion and panic. She heard loud noises outside, and she realized through the haze that it was thunder. But that wasn't what was wrong; she was breathing heavily, her heart pounding in her chest, and her stomach was killing her. She groaned, curling up into a ball on her mattress before she realized what was wrong. Her eyes snapped open.

"Shit," she murmured to herself, pushing herself into a sitting position. Her head spun, her vision blurred, but she pushed through the haze again as she rummaged through her bedside table for something. She swallowed hard over a dry throat. She was so thirsty.

Pushing herself to her feet, Michelle stumbled to her door and wrenched it open, leaning against the wall as she tried to make her way to the kitchen. She needed water… She wrenched open one of the cupboard doors, trying to get a glass, but it slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor. She cursed again, stepping back to try and avoid the glass and ended up sinking onto the floor, leaning against the cupboards. Her hands were shaking violently, her head spinning, and she felt like she was going to be sick.

* * *

Loki was startled out of sleep by a loud clap of thunder. The lightning through the window momentarily lit his entire bedroom while the rain pounded against the glass. He sighed when he realized that it was only the thunder and lay back down against his pillows, though he threw a dirty look to the storm outside. No doubt it was Thor causing all of that ruckus…

"Yes, yes, we know how powerful you are," he muttered darkly, ready to go back to sleep. He closed his eyes, comfortable under the covers when the sound of a glass shattering in the kitchen caused him to frown and sit up slowly. When he heard a few bangs, followed by a few curse words from Michelle, he decided to get up and see what was going on.

He rounded the corner of the kitchen, feeling his way blindly through the dark, and just before he was about to flick the light on, the lighting illuminated the room. In that split second, he saw Michelle sitting on the kitchen floor, looking sweaty and exhausted, and in her shaking hand was what looked like a pen. He flipped on the light, thankful that the electricity still worked and hurried to her side.

"Michelle," he said in alarm, touching her shoulder. "Michelle, are you alright?"

"Help me," Michelle said, her voice thick and lethargic. She pressed the pen into his hand, and upon closer inspection, he saw that it had a small needle poking out of the top.

"What do you need me to do?" Loki asked.

"Stab me in the stomach," she answered, lifting up her t-shirt slightly to reveal the pale skin underneath. Loki looked at her in shock.

"Why would you-?"

"Just do it!" Michelle yelled, and Loki did what he was asked, plunging the needle into her skin. She hissed in pain before gritting out, "Press the button on the top."

He did, the button making a soft clicking noise. Michelle simply sat there, her eyes closed as she took deep breaths, resting her head back against the cupboards. She gently pushed at his hand with the needle and he pulled it away from her, very confused and concerned about what just happened. Loki put the needle on the floor next to him as he watched her, unsure of what to do. He gently touched her shoulder again.

"Michelle?"

"Can you get me some water, please?" She asked, her voice croaky.

"Yes, of course," he said quickly, getting to his feet and all but running for the cupboard where she kept the drinking glasses. Minding the broken glass in front of the fridge, he filled a tall glass with water from the water jug before returning to her side. She took it gratefully and began to guzzle it down in one gulp, finishing its contents in a matter of seconds. She set the cup on the floor with a great sigh and simply sat quietly for a while, focusing on her breathing, bringing a hand up to her neck to check her own pulse. Loki was still kneeling at her side, watching her closely. With her eyes closed, Michelle patted the empty space on the floor next to her.

"Sit down and stay a while," she said sleepily. "I'm going to need your help again in a few minutes."

He slowly and quietly scooted next to her, leaning his back against the cool cupboards. He sat with her in silence, lacing his fingers together as he waited for her to say something, but he kept glancing over at her as she simply sat there. Eventually she moved slightly, but winced, putting a hand on the side he'd stabbed with the needle.

"Ouch," she muttered.

He touched her arm. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, moving rather lethargically. "You stabbed me pretty hard, though… but thanks for the help."

Loki clenched his jaw slightly, irritated that she hadn't told him what happened yet. "What was that?"

Michelle sighed, turning her head to look at him. "I have Type 1 diabetes. It's a disease where my body can't process the glucose in my blood on its own, so I need to inject medicine that helps it do that. I was really tired when I got home, so I forgot to check my blood sugars, which is why I had this attack… dammit, why did I do that? I never do that."

"A disease?" Loki asked softly. "Is it curable?"

"No," Michelle said, stretching her neck slightly. "I've had it since I was sixteen. This is the first time I forgot to check my sugar levels since living on my own, though…" She gave a hollow laugh. "It's a good thing you were here to help; if you weren't, then… well, it wouldn't have been good."

She glanced over to the microwave on the opposite counter from where she and Loki sat. It was 3 am. Michelle wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there for, but she started to push herself to her feet, moving slowly and carefully. She grabbed the discarded needle as she went. Loki was up in a flash, ready to support her.

"Are you sure you should be moving?" he fretted.

"Don't worry, I'm not broken," she said with a small laugh, though she stumbled slightly, her head still spinning slightly. "But I am dizzy… do you mind helping me to my room?"

He supported her with an arm around her waist as they made their way to her bedroom. Once she was near her bed, she sat down pulling a series of items from her bedside table. Loki stood by her, watching as she jabbed herself in the forearm with another small needle and then using a tiny machine to soak up some of the blood. It beeped, and the small screen on the contraption read off a series of numbers that Michelle obviously understood, because she began to put everything away before placing a bandage over the small prick. She worked quickly and methodically, which unnerved Loki; she was obviously very used to doing this.

"All better," she said to him with a smile. He didn't look convinced. Michelle chuckled and gently nudged him in the side with her elbow. "Loki, I'm fine; you made sure of that. Thank you for your help."

"What would have happened if I hadn't found you?" he suddenly demanded.

Michelle's smile slowly faded and she looked down at her lap, chewing on her lip. She took a deep breath before saying, "I probably would have died, eventually."

"You're very calm for someone who almost lost their life," Loki observed frostily.

"Look, Loki, if I spent every minute worrying about how close I come to losing my life everyday, I wouldn't be living," She said. "I probably would have managed to stick myself with the needle, it just would have been harder to keep my hand steady."

He sighed, looking a little doubtful, but he knew when to drop it. "You're sure you alright?"

"I'm sure,"

"Good," Loki replied, turning to the door. "In that case, I'm going back to bed."

She chuckled as she crawled under the covers. "Goodnight."

Before he left her room, he paused for a moment at the door and looked back at her, obviously wanting to say something. She was still sitting up and looking at him curiously, waiting for him to speak. He wanted to tell her to not keep any more secrets from him; if she was ill or in danger, he wanted her to tell him so that he could help. He wanted to be able to assist her. He wondered why he suddenly felt the need to look out for her now… Then he decided it was simply because he owed her. Nothing more; she was the person taking care of him, and if he expected to return to Asgard at all, he would need her assistance. That was all. He observed her for a moment before shaking his head.

"Sleep well," Loki finally said before gently closing the door behind him. Michelle sat and stared at the white wood for a while before covering her face in her hands and plopping back against the pillows. What the actual hell was that? She was appalled with herself for pulling such a stupid move. How the hell did she manage to _forget_ checking her sugar levels? She shouldn't have had that cake… She'd played it off the danger of it a little bit, mostly for Loki's sake, but the truth was**(,)** she'd been terrified. She couldn't see, she couldn't think, her body wouldn't work for her, and she didn't think she would have been able to administer her insulin at all. The minute she saw him there in the kitchen… she'd never felt so much relief before. She'd probably never tell him so, but she owed Loki her life.

He'd saved her. For the second time since she'd met him, he had saved her life, even if the first time had been an accident. Still… she felt like she owed him more and more every day. All she could do was thank whatever higher power was up there, if there was one, that Loki had been with consequences could have been fatal…

"Don't dwell on it," she murmured to herself as she tried to force herself to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Loki was the first one awake. Nearly three months of living with Michelle had taught him how to do a variety of things; cooking breakfast was one of them. After sweeping up the shattered glass from the night before, he busied himself with scrambling eggs in a frying pan by the time Michelle flung herself out of her room, looking haggard. Her hair was a mess, her pajamas rumbled and twisted on her body as she began to panic, worried she'd slept in.

"Dammit, I still need to-" she muttered to herself before she saw Loki standing at the stove. He was basically fully dressed in a white button-up shirt with the arms rolled up to his elbows, tucked into a pair of dark jeans. A dishtowel hung over his shoulder as he turned to her, offering a smile.

"Good morning," he said, turning back to his eggs. "I was up early, so I thought I'd cook."

"Oh… I…." Michelle stammered. "Thanks."

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she replied. She quickly fixed her hair then, taming the wild curls that were going all over the place. Finally she said, "Um… I'll be right out; just let me get dressed."

She disappeared back into her room, and Loki served out the eggs and toast on plates, placing them on the table before he went to clean up some of his mess. As he tidied up, Michelle emerged from her room, looking human again. She was dressed in a casual shirt and jeans with a loose, flowing scarf looped around her neck and her dark curls tied back in a ponytail. What was different, however, was the kit she had in her hand, the same one she'd pulled out the night before after he'd found her in the kitchen. She went through the process of setting up her needle, another pen-like device that looked like the one from the night before. Once it was set, she jabbed the needle into a patch of skin on her abdomen that she pinched between her thumb and forefinger, the opposite side from where Loki had stuck her the night before. She went through the motions quickly and seamlessly, and he watched in silence. Once she'd put everything back in it's place, she sat down at the table to enjoy her breakfast.

"Mm, this looks great," she said cheerfully as she picked up her fork. "Thanks."

"Not at all," Loki answered, and he returned to tidying his mess.

To anyone else, what just happened probably didn't look like much. But the scene that just transpired was a silent conversation between the two of them. It was an unspoken agreement. He had more or less saved her life. Michelle would never tell him just how close it had been, but he'd still been there when she needed him, and that was all she needed to know that he'd look out for her. In return, Loki knew something about her now, something she generally didn't tell people; it wasn't really their business to know, and though he wasn't aware that it was generally kept a secret, he knew it was something that she saw as a weakness. She was showing him her vulnerability.

In a matter of seconds, their bond had just strengthened tenfold. Where there had once been a forced truce between them, there was now friendship. Loki was surprised to find that he was happy with this turn of events.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Turning point one. Woo!

I decided a long time ago that Michelle was going to have diabetes. I needed a reason for Loki to help her out, to find out something about her that would establish trust between them. I thought it was a good choice because it's not a rare or completely fatal disease and lots of people live very normal lives with some form of diabetes every day, but it could still be dangerous if not looked after properly. I did lots of research about the disease, but if I've made any errors, I apologize; I am but human.


	7. NOTICE

I've left my readers in the dark for sometime, so I thought my absence warranted an explanation.

I've been away on vacation for the past few weeks with my family; it was a spur of the moment thing that didn't really have any prior planning (none that I'm aware of, anyway; no one ever tells me anything) so I was suddenly thrown into the wilderness with a very poor internet connection and no time to finish my current chapter. Also, due to the start up of school once again (blast!), my beta and I have significantly less time to work on this story.

However, I am NOT giving up on this! Never fear! Though I'm not exactly sure when the next chapter will be posted, there'll probably be a few posted in one go. I still plan to dedicate some time every day to writing and working on more than one chapter at a time, which means that I'll be further into the story, and getting them out in a timely manner will be easier.

Thank you, reader, for sticking with this story. :D I don't know who you are or what you look like, but I'd like to give you a hug for reading and following this journey. I'm not gone, and I'm not giving up; I'll be back soon.

Love for days,

3 Mishirure


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